
Book 



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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE MODERN DRAMA SERIES 
EDITED BY EDWIN BJORKMAN 



SAVVA . THE LIFE OF MAN 
BY LEONID ANDREYEV 



? SAVVA 
THE LIFE OF MAN 

TWO PLAYS BY 

LEONID ANDREYEV 



TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN 
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

THOMAS SELTZER 




NEW YORK 

MITCHELL KENNERLEY 

MCMXIV 



COPYRIGHT, 19 14, MITCHELL KENNERLEY 

THIS EDITION IS AUTHORIZED BY LEONID ANDREYEV, WHO HAS 
SELECTED THE PLAYS INCLUDED IN IT 

DRAMATIC RIGHTS RESERVED BY EDWIN BJORKMAN 



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THB-PLIMPTON.PHBSS 
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©CI.D 37400 




CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction vii 

Chronological List of Plays by Leonid 

Andreyev xvi 

Sawa 1 

The Life of Man 151 



INTRODUCTION 

FOR the last twenty years Leonid Andreyev and 
Maxim Gorky have by turns occupied the centre 
of the stage of Russian literature. Prophetic vision is 
no longer required for an estimate of their permanent 
contribution to the intellectual and literary develop- 
ment of Russia. It represents the highest ideal ex- 
pression of a period in Russian history that was preg- 
nant with stirring and far-reaching events — the period 
of revolution and counter-revolution. It was a period 
when Russian society passed from mood to mood at an 
extremely rapid tempo : from energetic aggressiveness, 
exultation, high hope, and confident trust in the tri- 
umph of the people's cause to apathetic inaction, 
gloom, despair, frivolity, and religious mysticism. 
This important dramatic epoch in the national life of 
Russia Andreyev and Gorky wrote down with such 
force and passion that they became recognized at once 
as the leading exponents of their time. 

Despite this close external association, their work 
differs essentially in character. In fact, it is scarcely 
possible to conceive of greater artistic contrasts. 
Gorky is plain, direct, broad, realistic, elemental. His 
art is native, not acquired. Civilization and what 
learning he obtained later through the reading of books 
have influenced, not the manner or method of his writ- 



viii INTRODUCTION 

ing, but only its purpose and occasionally its subject 
matter. It is significant to watch the dismal failure 
Gorky makes of it whenever, in concession to the mod- 
ern literary fashion, he attempts the mystical. Sym- 
bolism is foreign to him except in its broadest aspects. 
His characters, though hailing from a world but little 
known, and often extreme and extremely peculiar, are 
on the whole normal. 

Andreyev, on the other hand, is a child of civiliza- 
tion, steeped in its culture, and while as rebellious 
against some of the things of civilization as Gorky, he 
reacts to them in quite a different way. He is wondrously 
sensitive to every development, quickly appropriates 
what is new, and always keeps in the vanguard. His 
art is the resultant of all that the past ages have given 
us, of the things that we have learned in our own day, 
and of what we are just now learning. With this art 
Andreyev succeeds in communicating ideas, thoughts, 
and feelings so fine, so tenuous, so indefinite as to 
appear to transcend human expression. He does not 
care whether the things he writes about are true, 
whether his characters are real. What he aims to give 
is a true impression. And to convey this impression 
he does not scorn to use mysticism, symbolism, or even 
plain realism. His favorite characters are degenerates, 
psychopaths, abnormal eccentrics, or just creatures of 
fancy corresponding to no reality. Frequently, how- 
ever, the characters, whether real or unreal, are as 
such of merely secondary importance, the chief aim 
being the interpretation of an idea or set of ideas, and 
the characters functioning primarily only as a medium 
for the embodiment of those ideas. 

In one respect Gorky and Andreyev are completely 



INTRODUCTION ix 

at one — in their bold aggressiveness. The emphatic 
tone, the attitude of attack, first introduced into Rus- 
sian literature by Gorky, was soon adopted by most of 
his young contemporaries, and became the characteris- 
tic mark of the literature of the Revolution. By that 
token the literature of Young Russia of that day is 
as easily recognized as is the English literature of the 
Dryden and Pope epoch by its sententiousness. It 
contrasts sharply with the tone of passive resignation 
and hopelessness of the preceding period. Even Chek- 
hov, the greatest representative of what may be called 
the period of despondence, was caught by the new 
spirit of optimism and activism, so that he reflected 
clearly the new influence in his later works. But while 
in Gorky the revolt is chiefly social — manifesting it- 
self through the world of the submerged tenth, the 
disinherited masses, les miserables, who, becoming 
conscious of their wrongs, hurl defiance at their op- 
pressors, make mock of their civilization, and threat- 
en the very foundations of the old order — Andreyev 
transfers his rebellion to the higher regions of thought 
and philosophy, to problems that go beyond the merely 
better or worse social existence, and asks the larger, 
much more difficult questions concerning the general 
destiny of man, the meaning of life and the reason for 
death. 

Social problems, it is true, also interest Andreyev. 
" The Red Laugh " is an attack on war through a por- 
trayal of the ghastly horrors of the Russo-Japanese 
War ; " Savva," one of the plays of this volume, is 
taken bodily (with a poet's license, of course) from 
the actual revolutionary life of Russia ; " King 
Hunger " is the tragedy of the uprising of the hungry 



INTRODUCTION 



masses and the underworld. Indeed, of the works 
written during the conflict and for some time afterward, 
all centre more or less upon the social problems which 
then agitated Russia. But with Andreyev the treat- 
ment of all questions tends to assume a universal as- 
pect. He envisages phenomena from a broad, cosmic 
point of view ; he beholds things sub specie aetemitatis. 
The philosophical tendency of his mind, though amply 
displayed even in works like " Sawa " — which is 
purely a character and social drama — manifests itself 
chiefly by his strong propensity for such subjects as 
those treated in " To the Stars," " The Life of Man," 
and " Anathema." In these plays Andreyev plunges 
into the deepest problems of existence, and seeks to 
posit once more and, if possible, to solve in accordance 
with the modern spirit and modern knowledge those 
questions over which the mightiest brains of man have 
labored for centuries: Whence? Whither? What is 
the significance of man's life? Why is death? 

If Spinoza's dictum be true, that "a wise man's medi- 
tation is not of death but of life," then Andreyev is 
surely not a wise man. Some philosophers might have 
written their works even without a guarantee against 
immortality, though Schopenhauer, who exercised a 
great influence on the young Andreyev, was of the 
opinion that " without death there would hardly be 
any philosophy " ; but of Andreyev it is certain that 
the bulk of his works would not have been written, and 
could not be what they are, were it not for the fact of 
death. If there is one idea that can be said to dominate 
the author of "The Life of Man," it is the idea of 
death. Constantly he keeps asking: Why all this 
struggling, all this pain, all this misery in the world, 



INTRODUCTION xi 

if it must end in nothing? The suffering of the great 
mass of mankind makes life meaningless while it lasts, 
and death puts an end even to this life. Again and 
again Andreyev harks back to the one thought from 
which all his other thoughts seem to flow as from their 
fountain-head. Lazarus, in the story by that name, is 
but the embodiment of death. All who behold him, 
who look into his eyes, are never again the same as they 
were ; indeed, most of them are utterly ruined. " The 
Seven Who Were Hanged " tells how differently dif- 
ferent persons take death. Grim death lurks in the 
background of almost every work, casting a fearful 
gloom, mocking the life of man, laughing to scorn his 
joys and his sorrows, propounding, sphinx-like, the 
big riddle that no Oedipus will ever be able to solve. 

For it is not merely the destructive power of death, 
not merely its negation of life, that terrifies our author. 
The pitchy darkness that stretches beyond, the im- 
possibility of penetrating the veil that separates 
existence from non-existence — in a word, the riddle 
of the universe — is, to a mind constituted like 
Andreyev's, a source of perhaps even greater disquiet. 
Never was a man hungrier than he with " the insatiable 
hunger for Eternity " ; never was a man more eager 
to pierce the mystery of life and catch a glimpse of 
the beyond while yet alive. 

Combined with the perplexing darkness that so piti- 
fully limits man's vision is the indifference of the forces 
that govern his destiny. The wrongs he suffers may 
cry aloud to heaven, but heaven does not hear him. 
Whether he writhe in agony or be prostrated in the 
dust (against all reason and justice), he has no appeal. 
Whole societies, the bulk of mankind, may be plunged 



xii INTRODUCTION 

in misery — who or what cares? Man is surrounded 
by indifference as well as by darkness. 

Often, when an idea has gained a powerful hold on 
Andreyev, he pursues it a long time, presenting it 
under various aspects, until at last it assumes its 
final form, rounded and completed, as it were, in some 
figure or symbol. As such it appears either as the 
leading theme of an entire story or drama, or as an 
important subordinate theme. Thus we have seen that 
the idea of death finds concrete expression in the 
character of Lazarus. The idea of loneliness, of the 
isolation of the individual from all other human beings, 
even though he be physically surrounded by large num- 
bers, is embodied in the story of " The City." Simi- 
larly the conception of the mystery and the indifference 
by which man finds himself confronted is definitely set 
forth in the figure of Someone in Gray in " The Life 
of Man.'? 

The riddle, the indifference — these are the two char- 
acteristics of human destiny that loom large in 
Andreyev's conception of it as set forth in that figure. 
Someone in Gray — who is he? No one knows. No 
definite name can be given him, for no one knows. He 
is mysterious in " The Life of Man," where he is 
Man's constant companion ; he is mysterious in " Ana- 
thema," where he guards the gate leading from this 
finite world to eternity. And as Man's companion he 
looks on indifferently, apparently unconcerned whether 
Man meets with good or bad fortune. Man's prayers 
do not move him. Man's curses leave him calm. 

It is Andreyev's gloomy philosophy, no doubt, that 
so often causes him to make his heroes lonely, so that 
loneliness is developed into a principle of human exist- 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

ence, in some cases, as in " The City," becoming the 
dominant influence over a man's life. Particularly the 
men whom life has treated senselessly and cruelly, whom 
it has dealt blow after blow until their spirits are 
crushed out — it is such men in particular who become 
lonely, seek isolation and retirement, and slink away 
into some hole to die alone. This is the significance of 
the saloon scene in " The Life of Man." The environ- 
ment of the drunkards who are withdrawn from life, 
and therefore lonely themselves, accentuates the lone- 
liness of Man in the last scene. It is his loneliness that 
Andreyev desired to bring into relief. His frequenting 
the saloon is but an immaterial detail, one of the means 
of emphasizing this idea. To remove all possible mis- 
understanding on this point, Andreyev wrote a variant 
of the last scene, " The Death of Man," in which, in- 
stead of dying in a saloon surrounded by drunkards, 
Man dies in his own house surrounded by his heirs. 
" The loneliness of the dying and unhappy man," 
Andreyev wrote in a prefatory note to this variant, 
" may just as fully be characterized by the presence 
of the Heirs." 

However, for all the gloom of his works, Andreyev is 
not a pessimist. Under one of his pictures he has 
written : " Though it destroys individuals, the truth 
saves mankind." The misery in the world may be ever 
so great; the problems that force themselves upon 
man's mind may seem unanswerable; the happenings 
in the external world may fill his soul with utter dark- 
ness, so that he despairs of finding any meaning, any 
justification in life. And yet, though his reason deny 
it, his soul tells him: "The truth saves mankind." 
After all, Man is not a failure. For though misfor- 



xiv INTRODUCTION 

tunes crowd upon him, he remains intact in soul, un- 
broken in spirit. He carries off the victory because he 
does not surrender. He dies as a superman, big in his 
defiance of destiny. This must be the meaning An- 
dreyev attached to Man's life. We find an interpreta- 
tion of it, as it were, in " Anathema," in which Someone 
sums up the fate of David — who lived an even sadder 
life than Man and died a more horrible death — in 
these words : " David has achieved immortality, and he 
lives immortal in the deathlessness of fire. David has 
achieved immortality, and he lives immortal in the 
deathlessness of light which is life." 
' Andreyev was born at Orel in 1871 and was gradu- 
ated from the gymnasium there. According to his own 
testimony, he never seems to have been a promising 
student. " In the seventh form," he tells us, " I was 
always at the bottom of my class." He lost his father 
early, and often went hungry while studying law at the 
University of St. Petersburg. In the University of 
Moscow, to which he went next, he fared better. One 
of the means that he used to eke out a livelihood was 
portrait painting to order, and in this work he finally 
attained such proficiency that his price rose from $1.50 
apiece to $6.00. 

In 1897 he began to practise law, but he gave most 
of his time to reporting court cases for the " Courier," 
a Moscow newspaper, and later to writing feuilletons 
and stories. He tried only one civil case, and that one 
he lost. His work in the " Courier " attracted Gorky's 
attention, and the older writer zealously interested him- 
self in Andreyev's behalf. 

In 1902 his story named " The Abyss " appeared 
and created a sensation immediately. Even Countess 



INTRODUCTION xv 

Tolstoy joined in the dispute which raged over this 
story, attacking it as matter unfit for literature. But 
the verdict of Andreyev's generation was in his favor. 
Since then nearly every new work of his has been re- 
ceived as an important event in Russia and has sent the 
critics scurrying to his attack or defence. His first 
drama, " To the Stars," appeared while the Russians 
were engaged in fighting for liberty (1905), and, 
naturally enough, it reflects that struggle. " Savva " 
was published early the next year, and " The Life of 
Man " later in the same year. The production of 
" Savva " is prohibited in Russia. It has been played 
in Vienna and Berlin, and recently it was staged again 
in Berlin by " Die Freie Biihne," meeting with signal 
success. 



A CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF PLAYS 
By LEONID ANDREYEV 

To the Stars (K Zviezdam), 1905; 

Savva (Sawa), 1906; 

The Life of Man (Zhizn Chelovieka), 1906; 

King Hunger (Tzar Golod), 1907; 

The Black Masks (Chiorniya Maski), 1908; 

The Days of Our Life (Dni Nashey Zhizni), 1908; 

Anathema (Anatema), 1909; 

Anfissa (Anfissa), 1909; 

Gaudeamus (Gaudeamus), 1910; 

The Ocean (Okean), 1911; 

" Honor " (" Chest "), 1911 ( ?) ; 

The Pretty Sabine Women (Prekrasniya Sabini- 

anki), 1911; 
Professor Storitzyn (Professor Storitzyn), 1912; 
Catherine (Yekaterina Ivanovna), 1913; 
Thou Shalt not Kill (Ne Ubi), 1914. 



SAVVA or IGNIS SANAT 

(Savva) 

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS 

1906 



PERSONS 

Yegor Ivanovich Tropinin, innkeeper in a monastic suburb. An 
elderly man of about fifty, with an important manner and a stern, 
dignified way of speaking. 

Anton (Tony), anywhere from thirty-five to thirty-eight, bloated from 
drinking and always under the influence of alcohol. His face is 
bloodless, sad, and sleepy. He has a sparse beard, speaks slowly and 
painfully, and never laughs. 

Olympiada (Lipa), twenty-eight years old. She is fair and rather good- 
looking. There is a touch of monastic severity in her dress. 

Sawa, twenty-three, large, broad-shouldered, tvith a suggestion of the 
peasant in his looks. He walks with a slight stoop, elbows out, feet 
in. The motions of his hands are rounded and graceful, his palms 
being turned up as if he were carrying something. His features are 
large and rough-hewn, and his cheeks and chin are covered with a 
soft light down. When agitated or angry, he turns gray as dust, his 
movements become quick and agile, and his stoop disappears. He 
wears the blouse and boots of a workingman. 

Pelagueya, a freckled, colorless woman, of about thirty, wearing the 
ordinary dress of her class. She is dirty and untidy. 

Speransky Grigory Petrovich, an ex-seminarist; tall, very lean, with 
a pale, long face, and a tuft of dark hair on his chin. He has long, 
smooth hair parted in the middle and falling on each side of his face. 
He is dressed either in a long, dark overcoat or in a dark frock-coat. 

Father Kondraty, a friar, forty-two years old, ugly, narrow-chested, 
with swollen, animated eyes. 

Vassya, a novice, a strong and athletic youth of nineteen. He has a round, 
cheerful, smiling face, and curly, lustrous hair. 

King Herod, a pilgrim, about fifty. He has a dry, emaciated face, black 
from sunburn and road dust. His gray, dishevelled hair and beard 
give him a savage appearance. He has only one arm, the left. He is 
as tall as Sawa. 

A Fat Monk. 

A Gray Monk. 

A Man in Peasant Overcoat. 

Monks, pilgrims, cripples, beggars, blind men and women, monstrosities. 

The action takes place at the beginning of the twentieth century in a rich 
monastery celebrated for its wonder-working ikon of the Saviour. There 
is an interval of about two weeks between the first and the last act. 



SAVVA 

THE FIRST ACT 

The interior of a house in a monastic suburb. Two 
rooms, with a third seen bach of them. They are old, 
ramshackle, and filthy. The first one is a sort of 
dining-room, large, with dirty, low ceiling and smeared 
wall-paper that m places has come loose from the wall. 
There are three little windows;' the one giving on the 
yard reveals a shed, a wagon, and some household 
utensils. Cheap wooden furniture; a large, bare table. 
On the walls, which are dotted with flies, appear pic- 
tures of monks and views of the monastery. The sec- 
ond room, a parlor, is somewhat cleaner. It has win- 
dow curtains of muslin, two flower-pots with dried 
geraniums, a sofa, a round table covered with a table- 
cloth, and shelves with dishes. The door to the left in 
the first room leads to the tavern. When open, it ad- 
mits the sound of* a man's doleful, monotonous singing. 

It is noon of a hot and perfectly still summer's day. 
Now and then the cluckmg of hens is heard under the 
windows. The clock in the belfry of the monastery 
strikes every half-hour, a long, indistinct wheeze pre- 
ceding the first stroke. 

Pelagueya, who is pregnant, is scrubbing the floor. 
Seized with giddiness, she staggers to her feet and leans 
against the wall, staring before her with a vacant gaze. 



4 SAWA [act i 

PELAGrETA 

Oh, God! (She starts to scrub the floor again) 
up a (enters, faint from heat) 

How stifling! I don't know what to do with myself. 
My head seems full of pins and needles. {She sits 
down) Polya, say, Polya. 

PELAGUEYA 

What is it? 

LTPA 

Where 's father? 

PEEAGUETA 

He 's sleeping. 

EXPA 

Oh, I can't stand it. (She opens the rcindozc, then 
takes a turn round the room, moving aimlessly and 
glancing into the tavern) Tony 's sleeping too — 
behind the counter. It would be nice to go in bath- 
ing, but it 's too hot to walk to the river. Polya, 
why don't you speak? Say something. 

PELAGUETA 

What? 

IJPA 

Scrubbing, scrubbing, all the time. 

PELAGUETA 

Yr 
LTPA 

And in a day from now the floors will be dirty again. 
I don't see what pleasure you get from working the 
way you do. 

PELAGUEYA 

I have to. 

IJPA 

I just took a peep at the street. It 's awful. Not a 



ACT i] S VVA 



human being in sight. n a dog. All is 

And the monastery has such a queer look. It 
to be hanging in the air. You hare the feeling that 
if you were to blow on it, it would begin to swing 
and fly away. Why are you so silent, Polya? 
Where is Sarva? Have you seen him? 

PELAGUEYA 

He ? s in the pasture playing jacks tones with the 
children. 

LIPA 

He 's a funny fellow. 

PELAGUEYA 

I don't see anything funny about it. He ought to 
be working, that 's what he ought to be doing, not 
playing like a baby. I don't like your Sawa. 
lipa (lazily) 

Xo, Polya, he is good. 

PELAGUEYA 

Good? I spoke to him and told him how hard the 
work was for me. " Well," he says, " if you want to 
be a horse, pull." What did he come here for : I 
wish he 'd stayed where he was. 

LIPA 

He came home to see his folks. Why, it 's ten years 

since he left. He was a mere boy then. 

PELAGUEYA 

A lot he cares for his folks. Yegor IvanoTich is just 
dying to get rid of him. The neighbors don't know 
what to make of him either. He dresses like a work- 
ingman and carries himself like a lord, does n't speak 
to anybody and just rolls his eyes like a saint. I 
am afraid of fail 



SAVVA [act i 



LIPA 

Nonsense. He has beautiful eyes. 

PELAGUEYA 

Can't he see that it 's hard for me to be doing all 
the housework myself? A while ago he saw me carry- 
ing a pail full of water. I was straining with all 
my might. He didn't even say good morning; just 
passed on. I have met a lot of people in my life, but 
never anybody whom I disliked so much. 

LIPA 

I 'm so hot, everything seems to be turning round 
like wheels. Listen, Poly a, if you don't want to 
work, don't. No one compels you to. 

PELAGUEYA 

If I won't work, who will? Will you? 

LIPA 

No, I won't. We '11 hire a servant. 

PELAGUEYA 

Yes, of course, you have plenty of money. 

LIPA 

And what 's the use of keeping it? 

PELAGUEYA 

I '11 die soon and then you '11 get a servant. I won't 
last much longer. I have had one miscarriage, and 
I guess a second child will be the end of me. I don't 
care. It 's better than to live the way I do. Oh ! 
(She clasps her waist) 

LIPA 

But for God's sake, who is asking you to? Stop 
working. Don't scrub. 

PELAGUEYA 

Yes, stop it, and all of you will be going about say- 
ing : " How dirty the house is ! " 



act i] SAVVA 



lipa {weary from the heat and Pelagueya's talk) 
Oh, I 'm so tired of it ! 

PELAGUEYA 

Don't you think I feel tired too? What are you 
complaining about anyhow? You are a lady. All you 
have to do is pray and read. I don't even get time 
to pray. Some day I '11 drop into the next world all 
of a sudden just as I am, with my skirt tucked up 
under my belt: " Good morning! How d' you do ! " 

LIPA 

You '11 be scrubbing floors in the next world too. 

PELAGUEYA 

No, in the next world it 's you who '11 be scrubbing 
floors, and I '11 sit with folded hands like a lady. In 
heaven we '11 be the first ones, while you and your 
Sawa, for your pride and your hard hearts — 

LIPA 

Now, Polya, am I not sorry for you? 
yegor ivanovich TROPiNiN (enters, still sleepy, his 
beard turned to one side, the collar of his shirt un- 
buttoned; breathing heavily) Whew! Say, Polya, 
bring me some cider. Quick! (Pause) Who opened 
the window? 

LIPA 

I did. 

YEGOR 

What for? 

LIPA 

It 's hot. The stove in the restaurant makes it so 
close here you can't breathe. 

YEGOR 

Shut it, shut it, I say. If it 's too hot for you, you 
can go down into the cellar. 



8 SAVVA [act i 

LIPA 

But what do you want to have the window shut for? 

YEGOE 

Because. Shut it! You have been told to shut the 
window — then shut it! What are you waiting for? 
(Lipa, shrug gmg her shoulders, closes the window 
and is about to leave) Where are you going? The 
moment your father appears, you run away. Sit 
down! 

LIPA 

But you don't want me. 

YEGOR 

Never mind whether I want you or not — sit down ! 
Oh, my! (He yawns and crosses himself) Where 
is Savva? 

LIPA 

I don't know. 

YEGOE 

Tell him I '11 turn him out. 

LIPA 

Tell him so yourself. 

YEGOE 

Fool! (He yawns and crosses himself) Oh, Lord 
Jesus Christ, have mercy on us sinners! What was 
it I was dreaming about just now? 

LIPA 

I don't know. 

YEGOE 

Who asked you? You stupid, how could you tell 
what I was dreaming? You 've got brains, have n't 
you? 
pelagueya (handing him cider) 
There. 



act i] SAVVA 



YEGOR 

There. Put it down and don't " there " me. ( Takes 
the jug and drinks) What was I talking about? 
(Pelagueya finishes scrubbing the floor) Oh yes, 
about the Father Superior. A smart fellow he is. 
You '11 have to go a long way to find another like 
him. He had the old coffin exchanged for a new one. 
The pilgrims chewed the old one to pieces, so he put 
a new one in its place. He put a new one in place 
of the old one. They '11 chew this one to pieces 
too, the fools! Anything you give them, the fools! 
Do you hear or don't you? 

LIPA 

I hear. What 's so remarkable about it? A swindle, 
that 's all. 

YEGOR 

What 's remarkable about it is that he did n't ask 
your advice. They chewed the old one to pieces, so 
he put a new one in its place exactly like it. Yes, 
just exactly like the one in which the saint lay be- 
fore. Remember us in heaven where thou dwellest, 

Saint ! (He crosses himself and yawns) You can 
lose your teeth on this one too. They chewed the old 
one to pieces completely. Where are you off to? 
Sit down! 

LIPA 

1 can't, it 's so hot in here. 

YEGOR 

But I can. Sit down, you won't melt. (Pause) 
They chewed up the old one, so he put up a new one. 
Where is Sawa? 

PELAGUEYA 

He 's playing j ackstones with the children. 



10 SAVVA [act i 

YEGOE 

I 'm not asking you. What time is it? 

PELAGUEYA 

It just struck two. 

YEGOR 

Tell him I '11 turn him out. I won't stand it. 

LIPA 

Stand what? Be reasonable. 

YEGOE 

I won't stand it. Who is he anyway? Never at 
home in time for dinner. He comes and feeds like a 
dog by himself — knocks about at night and does n't 
lock the gate. I went out yesterday and found the 
gate wide open. If we are robbed, who '11 pay for it ? 

LIPA 

There are no thieves here. What thieves have you 
ever seen in this place? 

YEGOE 

What thieves? A lot. When all people are asleep, 
he is knocking about. Who ever heard of such a 
thing? ■ 

LIPA 

But if he does n't want to sleep, what is he to do ? 

YEGOE 

What, you too? He does n't want to? Let him go 
to bed, and he '11 sleep. No one wants to sleep, but 
once you lie down you fall asleep. He does n't want 
to? I know him. Who asked him to come? He 
was making bank-notes over there — then why did n't 
he stay where he was and do what he pleased ? What 
business has he here? 

LIPA 

What bank-notes? 



act i] SAVVA 11 

YEGOR 

What bank-notes? Not real ones. Nothing is done 
to you for making real bank-notes. Counterfeit 
bank-notes, that 's what. Not the sort of thing you 
get patted on the head for, when you are caught, no 
sirree ! It 's very strict now. I*'ll go to the police 
captain and tell him: " It 's like this — just search 
him." 

UPA 

Oh, nonsense. 

PELAGUEYA 

You are the only one who does n't know it. Every- 
body else knows it. 

UPA 

Oh, Lord! 

YEGOR 

Well, about the Lord we know better than you. You 
need n't appeal to Him. I want you to tell Sawa 
that I am not afraid of him. He did n't strike the 
right person. I '11 just make him skip. I '11 turn 
him out. Let him go where he came from. The idea 
of my having to be responsible for his robberies. 
Who 's ever heard of such a thing? 

LIPA 

You are not quite wide awake, father, that 's what 's 
the matter with you. 

YEGOR 

I am wide awake all right, and have been for a long 
time. What I 'd like to know is, are you wide 
awake? Look out, Lipa, don't let it happen to 
you too. 

UPA 

What? 



12 SAVVA [act i 

YEGOR 

It. (He yawns and crosses himself) If mother were 
to rise from her grave now and see her children, she 
would be delighted. Fine children, she would say. 
I have nursed you, and brought you up, and what 's 
the result? Regular good-for-nothing scamps. 
Tony '11 soon begin to drink again. I can see it on 
his face. Who 's ever heard of such a thing? Peo- 
ple will soon be coming here for the feast-day, and 
I '11 have to work alone for the whole bunch. Polya, 
hand me that match from the floor — there. No, not 
there, you blind goose. There, you stupid. 
pelagueya (hunting for the match) 
I don't see it. 

YEGOR 

I '11 take you by the back of your neck and give you 
such a shaking that you '11 see mighty quick. There 
it is, damn you ! 
upa (faint) 

Oh, God, what a blistering heat ! 

YEGOR 

There it is. Where are you crawling? Under the 
chair. There, damn you! 
savva (enters gayly, the pocket of his blouse full of 
jackstones) I won six pair. 

YEGOR 

Well, the idea! 

SAVVA 

I finished that rascal Misha, cleared him all up. 
What are you mumbling about there? 

YEGOR 

Nothing. Only I wish you 'd address me a little 
more politely. 



act i] SAVVA 13 

saw a {paying no attention to him) 
Lipa, I won six pair. 

LIPA 

How can you play in such heat? 

SAVVA 

Wait, I am going to put the jackstones away. I 
have eighteen pair now. Misha, the little rascal, 
plays well. (He goes out) 
yegor (rising) 

I don't want to see him any more. Tell him to get 
out of here at once. 

LIPA 

All right, I will. 

YEGOR 

Don't say "all right," but do what your father tells 
you. A fine lot of brats — that 's a sure thing ! 
Yes, yes. (Goes) If mother saw them — 

PELAGUEYA 

He speaks of mother as if he weren't the one that 
drove her to an early grave. He talked her to death, 
the old scold ! He just talks and talks, and nags and 
nags, and he does n't know himself what he wants. 

LIPA 

To be with you is like being caught in the wheel of 
a machine. My head is spinning round and round. 

PELAGUEYA 

Then why don't you go away with your Sawa? 
What are you waiting for? 

LIPA 

Look here, why are you angry with me? 

PELAGUEYA 

I am not angry. I am telling the truth. You don't 



14 SAVVA [act i 

want to marry. You are disgusted with all your 
beaux. Why don't you go into a convent? 

LIPA 

I won't go into a convent, but I will go away from 
here, soon enough, I think. 

PELAGUEYA 

Well, go ! No one is keeping you. The road is wide 
open. 

LIPA 

Ah, Polya, you are angry and sulky with me. You 
don't know how I spend my nights thinking about 
you. At night I lie awake and think and think about 
you, and about all the people that are unhappy — 
all of them. 

PELAGUEYA 

What do you want to think about me for? You had 
better think about yourself. 

LIPA 

And no one knows it. Well, what 's the use of talk- 
ing? You couldn't understand anyhow. I am sorry 
for you, Polya. (Pelagueya laughs) What 's the 
matter ? 

PELAGUEYA 

If you are sorry for me, why don't you carry out 
that pail? The way I am, I shouldn't be lifting 
heavy things. Why don't you help me, if you are so 
sorry for me? 

lipa (far face darkening, then brightening again) 
Give it to me. (She picks up the pail and starts to 
carry it away) 

pelagueya (spitefully) 

Hypocrite! Let go ! Where are you going? (She 
carries out the pail and returns for the other things) 



act i] SAVVA 15 

savva (entering; to his sister) 
Why is your face so red? 

LIPA 

It 's hot. 
[Pelagueya laughs. 

SAVVA 

Say, Pelagueya, has Kondraty inquired for me? 

PELAGUEYA 

Kondraty! What Kondraty? 
savva 

Kondraty, the friar; he looks something like a 
sparrow. 

PELAGUEYA 

I did n't see any Kondraty. Like a sparrow ! That 's 
a funny way of putting it. 

SAVVA 

Tell Tony to come here, won't you? 

PELAGUEYA 

Tell him yourself. 

SAVVA 

Well, weU! 
pelagueya (calls through the door before she goes out 
into the tavern) Anthony, Sawa wants you. 

LIPA 

What do you want him for? 

SAVVA 

What a queer habit you have here of plying a person 

with questions all the time. Where, who, why, what 

for? 
lipa (slightly offended) 

You needn't answer if you don't want to. 
tony (enters, speaking slowly and with difficulty) 

Who wants me? 



16 SAVVA [act i 

SAVVA 

I am expecting Kondraty here — you know Kon- 
draty, don't you? Send him in when he comes. 

TONY 

Who are you? 

SAVVA 

And send in two bottles of whiskey too, do you hear? 

TONY 

Maybe I do and maybe I don't. Maybe I '11 send 
the whiskey and maybe I won't. 

SAVVA 

What a sceptic. You 've grown silly, Tony. 

LIPA 

Leave him alone, Savva. He has got that from the 
seminary student, from Speransky. Anyhow, he is 
full of — 
tony (sittmg down) 

I did n't get it from anybody. I can understand 
everything myself. The blood has congealed in my 
heart. 

SAVVA 

That 's from drink, Tony. Stop drinking. 

TONY 

The blood has congealed in my heart. You think I 
don't know what 's what. A while ago you were n't 
here with us, and all of a sudden you came. Yes, I 
understand everything. I have visions. 

SAVVA 

What do you see? God? 

TONY 

There is no God. 

SAVVA 

How's that? 



act i] SAVVA 17 

TONY 

And no devil either. There 's nothing, no people, no 
animals, nothing. 

SAVVA 

What is there then? 

TONY 

There are only faces, a whole lot of faces. It 's 
faces, faces, faces. They are very funny, and I 
keep laughing all the time. I just sit still, and the 
faces come jumping and gliding past me, jumping 
and gliding. You 've got a very funny face too, 
Sawa. {Sadly) It 's enough to make one die of 
laughter. 
sawa {laughing gayly) 

What kind of a face have I? 

TONY 

That 's the kind of face you have. {Pointing his 
finger at him) She also has a face, and she. And 
father too. And then there are other faces. There 
are a lot of faces. I sit in the tavern and see 
everything. Nothing escapes me. You can't fool 
me. Some faces are small and some are large, and 
all of them glide and glide — Some are far away, 
and some are as close to me as if they wanted to kiss 
me or bite my nose. They have teeth. 

SAVVA 

All right, Tony, now you can go. We '11 talk about 
the faces later. Your own face is funny enough. 

TONY 

Yes, of course. I, too, have a face. 

SAVVA 

All right, all right. Go now. Don't forget to send 
in the whiskey. 



18 SAVVA [act i 

TONY 

As in the daytime so at night. A lot of faces. 
(From the door) And in regards to whiskey, maybe 
I '11 send it and maybe I won't. I can't tell yet. 
savva (to Lipa) 

Has he been that way a long time? 

LIPA 

I don't know. I think so. He drinks an awful lot. 
pelaguey (going) 

No wonder. You 're enough to drive a man to drink. 
Cranks. (Exit) 

LIPA 

My, how stifling ! I don't know what to do with my- 
self. Say, Savva, why are n't you nicer to Polya ? 
She is such a wretched creature. 

SAVVA 

A slavish soul. 

LIPA 

It is n't her fault if she 's that way. 
savva (coldly) 
Nor mine either. 

LIPA 

Oh, Savva, if you only knew the terrible life people 
lead here. The men drink, and beat their wives, and 
the women — 
savva 
I know. 

LIPA 

You say it so calmly. I have been wanting very 
much to have a talk with you. 

SAVVA 

Go ahead. 



act i] SAVVA 19 

LIPA 

You '11 soon be leaving us, I suppose. 

SAVVA 

Yes. 

LIPA 

Then I won't have any chance to talk to you. You 
are scarcely ever at home. This is the first time, 
pretty nearly. It seems so strange that you should 
enjoy playing with the children, you a grown man, 
big as a bear. 
savva {merrily) 

No, Lipa, they play very well. Misha is very good 
at the game, and I have a hard time holding up my 
end of it. I lost him three pairs yesterday. 

LIPA 

Why, he is only ten years old. 

SAVVA 

Well, what of it? The children are the only human 
beings here. They are the wisest part of the — 

lipa {with a smile) 

And I? How about me? 

savva (looking at her) 

You? Why, you are like the rest. 
\_A pause. Being offended, Lipa's languor disap- 
pears to some extent, 

LIPA 

Maybe I bore you. 

SAVVA 

No, you make no difference to me one way or an- 
other. I am never bored. 
lipa (with a constrained smile) 

Thank you, I am glad of that at least. Were you 



SAVVA [act 



in the monastery to-day? You go there often, don't 
you? 

SAVVA 

Yes, I was there. Why? 

LIPA 

I suppose you don't remember — I love our monas- 
tery. It is so beautiful. At times it looks so pen- 
sive. I like it because it 's so old. Its age gives it 
a solemnity, a stern serenity and detachment. 

SAVVA 

Do you read many books? 
lipa (blushing) 

I used to read a lot. You know I spent four win- 
ters in Moscow with Aunt Glasha. Why do you ask? 

SAVVA 

Never mind. Go on. 

LIPA 

Does what I say sound ridiculous? 

SAVVA 

No, go on. 

LIPA 

The monastery is really a remarkable place. There 
are nice spots there which no one ever visits, some- 
where between the mute walls, where there is nothing 
but grass and fallen stones and a lot of old, old litter. 
I love to linger there, especially at twilight, or on 
hot sunny days like to-day. I close my eyes, and I 
seem to look far, far into the distant past — at 
those who built it and those who first prayed in it. 
There they walk along the path carrying bricks and 
singing something, so softly, so far away. (Closing 
her eyes) So softly, so softly. 



act i] SAVVA 21 

SAVVA 

I don't like the old. As to the building of the mon- 
astery, it was done by serfs, of course; and when 
they carried bricks they did n't sing, but quarrelled 
and cursed one another. That 's more like it. 

lipa (opening her eyes) 

Those are my dreams. You see, Sawa, I am all 
alone here. I have nobody to talk to. Tell me — 
You won't be angry, will you? — Tell me, just me 
alone, why did you come here to us ? It was n't to 
pray. It was n't for the feast-day. You don't look 
like a pilgrim. 

sawa (frowning) 

I don't like you to be so curious. 

LIPA 

How can you think I am? Do I look as if I were 
curious? You have been here for two weeks, and 
you ought to see that I am lonely. I am lonely, 
Sawa. Your coming was to me like manna fallen 
from the sky. You are the first living human being 
that has come here from over there, from real life. 
In Moscow I lived very quietly, just reading my 
books ; and here — you see the sort of people we 
have here. 

SAVVA 

Do you think it 's different in other places ? 

LIPA 

I don't know. That 's what I should like to find out 
from you. You have seen so much. You have even 
been abroad. 

SAVVA 

Only for a short time. 



22 SAVVA [act i 

LIPA 

That makes no difference. You have met many cul- 
tured, wise, interesting people. You have lived with 
them. How do they live? What kind of people 
are they? Tell me all about it. 

SAVVA 

A mean, contemptible lot. 

LIPA 

Is that so? You don't say so! 

SAVVA 

They live just as you do here — a stupid, senseless 
existence. The only difference is in the language 
they speak. But that makes it still worse. The 
justification for cattle is that they are without 
speech. But when the cattle become articulate, begin 
to speak, defend themselves and express ideas, then 
the situation becomes intolerable, unmitigatedly re- 
pulsive. Their dwelling-places are different too — 
yes — but that 's a small thing. I was in a city 
inhabited by a hundred thousand people. The win- 
dows in the house of that city are all small. Those 
living in them are all fond of light, but it never 
occurs to anyone that the windows might be made 
larger. And when a new house is built, they put 
in the same kind of windows, just as small, just as 
they have always been. 

LIPA 

The idea ! I never would have thought it. But they 
can't all be like that. You must have met good peo- 
ple who knew how to live. 

SAVVA 

I don't know how to make you understand. Yes, I 
did meet, if not altogether good people, yet — 



act i] SAVVA 23 

The last people with whom I lived were a pretty good 
sort. They did n't accept life ready-made, but tried 
to make it over to suit themselves. But — 

LIPA 

Who were they — students ? 

SAVVA 

No. Look here — how about your tongue — is it of 
the loose kind? 

LIPA 

Savva, you ought to be ashamed! 

SAVVA 

All right. Now then. You 've read of people who 
make bombs — little bombs, you understand? Now 
if they see anybody who interferes with life, they 
take him off. They 're called anarchists. But that 
isn't quite correct. {Contemptuously) Nice an- 
archists they are! 
lipa (starting back, awestruck) 

What are you talking about? You can't possibly 
be in earnest. It is n't true. And you in it, too ? 
Why, you look so simple and talk so simply, and 
suddenly — I was hot a moment ago, but now I am 
cold. (The rooster crows under the window, calling 
the chickens to share some seed he has found) 

SAVVA 

There now — you 're frightened. First you want 
me to tell you, and then — 

LIPA 

Don't mind me, Sawa, it 's nothing. It was so 
unexpected. I thought such people did n't really 
exist — that they were just a fiction of the imagina- 
tion. And then, all of a sudden, to find you, my 



24 SAVVA [act i 

brother — You are not joking, Savva? Look me 
straight in the eye. 

SAVVA 

But why did you get frightened? They are not so 
terrible after all. In fact, they are very quiet, 
orderly people, and very deliberate. They meet and 
meet, and weigh and consider a long time, and then 
— bang ! — a sparrow drops dead. The next min- 
ute there is another sparrow in its place, hopping 
about on the very same branch. Why are you look- 
ing at my hands? 

LIPA 

Oh, nothing. Give me your hand — no, your right 
hand. 

SAVVA 

Here. 

LIPA 

How heavy it is. Feel how cold mine are. Go on, 
tell me all about it. It 's so interesting. 

SAVVA 

What 's there to tell? They are a brave set of peo- 
ple, I must admit; but it is a bravery of the head, 
not of the hands. And their heads are partitioned 
off into little chambers; they are always careful 
not to do anything which is unnecessary or harm- 
ful. Now you can't clear a dense forest by cutting 
down one tree at a time, can you ? That 's what 
they do. While they chop at one end, it grows up 
at the other. You can't accomplish anything that 
way ; it 's labor lost. I proposed a scheme to them, 
something on a larger scale. They got frightened, 
would n't hear of it. A little weak-kneed they are. 



act i] SAVVA 25 

So I left them. Let them practise virtue. A narrow- 
minded bunch. They lack breadth of vision. 

LIPA 

You say it as calmly as if you were joking. 

SAVVA 

No, I am not joking. 

LIPA 

Are n't you afraid ? 

SAVVA 

I ? So far I have n't been, and I don't ever expect 
to be. What worse can happen to a man than to 
have been born? It 's like asking a man who is 
drowning whether he is not afraid of getting wet. 
{Laughs) 

LIPA 

So that 's the kind you are. 

SAVVA 

One thing I learned from them: respect for dyna- 
mite. It 's a powerful instrument, dynamite is — 
nothing like it for a convincing argument. 

LIPA 

You are only twenty-three years old. You have no 
beard yet, not even a moustache. 
savva (feeling his face) 

Yes, a measly growth; but what conclusions do you 
draw from that? 

LIPA 

Fear will come to you yet. 

SAVVA 

No. If I have n't been frightened so far by watch- 
ing life, there 's nothing else to fear. Life, yes. I 
embrace the earth with my eyes, the whole of it, the 



26 SAVVA [act i 

entire little planetoid, and I can find nothing more 
terrible on it than man and human life. And I am 
not afraid of man. 
lip a (scarcely listerwng to him; ecstatically) 

Yes, that 's the word. That 's it. Sawa, dear, I 
am not afraid of bodily suffering either. Burn me 
on a slow fire. Cut me to pieces. I won't cry. I '11 
laugh. I know I will. But there is another thing 
I am afraid of. I am afraid of people's suffering, of 
the misery from which they cannot escape. When 
in the stillness of the night, broken only by the 
striking of the hours, I think of how much suffer- 
ing there is all around us — aimless, needless suf- 
fering; suffering one doesn't even know of — when 
I think of that, I am chilled with terror. I go down 
on my knees and pray. I pray to God, saying to 
Him : " Oh, Lord, if there has to be a victim, take 
me, but give the people joy, give them peace, give 
them forgetfulness. Oh, Lord, all powerful as Thou 
art—" 

SAVVA 

Yes. 

LIPA 

I have read about a man who was eaten by an eagle, 
and his flesh grew again overnight. If my body 
could turn into bread and joy for the people, I 
would consent to live in eternal torture in order to 
feed the unfortunate. There '11 soon be a holiday 
here in the monastery — 

SAVVA 

I know. 

LIPA 

r There is an ikon of the Saviour there with the touch- 



act i] SAVVA 27 

ing inscription : " Come unto me, all ye that labour 
and are heavy laden — 

SAVVA 

And I will give you rest." I know. 

UPA 

It is regarded as a wonder-working ikon. Go there 
on the feast-day. It 's like a torrent pouring into 
the monastery, an ocean rolling toward its walls; 
and this whole ocean is made up entirely of human 
tears, of human sorrow and misery. Such monstros- 
ities, such cripples. After witnessing one of those 
scenes, I walk about as in a dream. There are faces 
with such a depth of misery in them that one can 
never forget them as long as one lives. Why, Savva, 
I was a gay young thing before I saw all that. 
There is one man who comes here every year — 
they have nicknamed him King Herod — 
savva ^ 

He is here already. I 've seen him. 

LIPA 

Have you? 

SAVVA 

Yes, he has got a tragic face. 

LIPA 

Long ago, when still a young man, he killed his son 
by accident, and from that day he keeps coming here. 
He has an awful face. And all of them are waiting 
for a miracle. 

SAVVA 

Yes. There is something worse than inescapable 
human suffering, however. 

LIPA 

What? 



28 SAVVA [act i 

savva {lightly) 

Inescapable human stupidity. 

LIPA 

I don't know. 
savva 

I do. Here you see only a small fragment of life, 
but if you could see and hear all of it — When I 
first read their newspapers, I laughed and thought 
it was a joke. I thought they were published in 
some asylum for the insane. But I found it was no 
joke. It was really serious, Lipa, really serious. 
And then my head began to ache with an intolerable 
pain. {He presses his hand to his forehead) 

LIPA 

Your head began to ache? 

SAVVA 

Yes. It 's a peculiar pain. You don't know what it 
is like. Few people know what it is. And the pain 
continued until I resolved — 

LIPA 

What? 

SAVVA 

To annihilate everything. 

LIPA 

What are you saying? 

SAVVA 

Yes, yes, everything. All that 's old. 
lipa {in amazement) 
And man? 

SAVVA 

Man is to remain, of course. What is in his way 
is the stupidity that, piling up for thousands of 
years, has grown into a mountain. The modern 



act i] SAVVA 29 

sages want to build on this mountain, but that, of 
course, will lead to nothing but making the mountain 
still higher. It is the mountain itself that must be 
removed. It must be levelled to its foundation, down 
to the bare earth. Do you understand? 

LIPA 

No, I don't understand you. You talk so strangely. 

SAVVA 

Annihilate everything! The old houses, the old 
cities, the old literature, the old art. Do you know 
what art is? 

LIPA 

Yes, of course I know — pictures, statues. I went 
to the Tretyakov art gallery. 

SAVVA 

That 's it — the Tretyakov, and other galleries that 
are bigger still. There are some good things in them, 
but it will be still better to have the old stuff out of 
the way. All the old dress must go. Man must be 
stripped bare and left naked on a naked earth! 
Then he will build up a new life. The earth must be 
denuded, Lipa ; it must be stripped of its hideous 
old rags. It deserves to be arrayed in a king's 
mantle; but what have they done with it? They 
have dressed it in coarse fustian, in convict clothes. 
They 've built cities, the idiots ! 

LIPA 

But who will do it? Who 's going to destroy every- 
thing? 

SAVVA 

I. 

LIPA 

You? 



30 SAVVA [act i 

SAVVA 

Yes, I. I '11 begin, and then, when people get to 
understand what I am after, others will j oin in. The 
work will proceed merrily, Lipa. The sky will be 
hot. Yes. The only thing not worth destroying is 
science. That would be useless. Science is un- 
changeable, and if you destroyed it to-day, it would 
rise up again the same as before. 

LIPA 

How much blood will have to be shed? Why, it 's 
horrible ! 

SAVVA 

No more than has been shed already — and there '11 
be rhyme and reason to it, at least. {Pause; the 
hens cluck in the yard; from the same direction 
comes Tony's sleepy voice: " Poly a, father wants 
you. Where did you put his cap? ") 

LIPA 

What a scheme! Are you not joking, Savva? 

SAVVA 

You make me sick with your " you are joking, you 
are joking." 

LIPA 

I am afraid of you, Sawa. You are so serious 
about it. 

SAVVA 

Yes, there are many people who are afraid of me. 

LIPA 

If you would only smile a little. 
savva (looking at her with wide-open eyes and a frank 
face, and breaking abruptly into a clear, ringing 
laugh) Oh, you funny girl, what should I be smiling 



act i] SAVVA 31 

for? I'd rather laugh. (Both laugh) Are you 
afraid of tickling? 

LIPA 

Stop it! What a boy you are still! 

SAVVA 

All right. And Kondraty is n't here yet. I wonder 
why. Do you think the devil has taken him? The 
devil is fond of monks, you know. 

LIPA 

What strange fancies you have. Why, now you 
are j oking — 
savva (somewhat surprised) 
They are not fancies. 

LIPA 

My fancies are different. You are a dear now, be- 
cause you talk to me. In the evening I '11 tell you 
all about myself. We '11 take a walk together, and 
I '11 tell you everything. 

SAVVA 

Very well, I '11 listen. Why should n't I? 

LIPA 

Tell me, Savva, if I may ask — are you in love with 
a woman? 

SAVVA 

Ah, switched around to the subject of love after all 
— just like a woman! I hardly know what to say. 
I did love a girl, in a way, but she did n't stick it out. 

LIPA 

Stick out what? 

SAVVA 

My love, or perhaps myself. All I know is that one 
fine day she went away and left me. 



32 SAVVA [act i 

lipa (laughing) 
And you? 

SAVVA 

Nothing. I remained alone. 

LIPA 

Have you any friends, comrades? 

SAVVA 

No. 

LIPA 

Any enemies? I mean is there anyone whom you 
particularly dislike, whom you hate? 

SAVVA 

Yes — God. 
lipa (incredulously) 
What? 

SAVVA 

God, I say — the one whom you call your Saviour. 
lipa (shouting) 

Don't dare speak that way ! You 've gone out of 
your mind ! 

SAVVA 

Ah! I touched your sensitive spot, did I? 

LIPA 

Don't you dare! 

SAVVA 

I thought you were a gentle dove, but you have a 
tongue like a snake's. (He imitates the movements 
of a snake's tongue with his finger) 

LIPA 

Good Lord ! How dare you, how can you speak like 
that of the Saviour? Why, one dares not look at 
him. Why have you come here? 



act i] SAVVA 33 

[Kondraty appears at the door of the tavern, looks 
around, and enters quietly. 

KONDRATY 

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
Ghost! 

SAVVA 

Amen ! You 're very late, my gracious lord ! 

KONDRATY 

I did the will of him who sent me. I was picking 
young little cucumbers for the Father Superior. He 
has them made into a dainty dish which he loves 
dearly for an appetizer. My, what infernal heat! 
I was in pools of perspiration before I got through. 
savva {to Lipa) 

You see, here is a monk. He likes a drink. His 
cussing vocabulary is n't bad. He is no fool, and as 
to women — 

KONDRATY 

Don't embarrass the young lady, Mr. Tropinin. In 
the presence of a lady — 

SAVVA 

And furthermore, he does n't believe in God. 

KONDRATY 

He is joking. 

LIPA 

I don't like such jokes. What have you come here 
for? 

KONDRATY 

I am here by invitation. 

SAVVA 

I have some business with him. 
lipa (without looking at Savva) 
What have you come here for? 



34 SAVVA [act i 

SAVVA 

For nothing that concerns you. You had better 
have a talk^with him. He is a chap that possesses 
a great deal of curiosity. He 's not a fool, either, 
but knows what 's what. 
lip a (looking searchvngly at Savva) 

I know him well, I know him very well. 

KONDRATY 

To my regret I must admit it 's true. I have the 
unenviable fortune of being known as a man who 
does not observe the outer forms of conduct. It is 
on account of that characteristic I was fired from 
my position as government clerk, and it 's on that 
account I am now frequently condemned to live for 
weeks on nothing but bread and water. I cannot act 
in secret. I am open and above-board. In fact, 
I fairly cry aloud whatever I do. For example, the 
circumstances under which I met you, Mr. Tropinin, 
are such that I am ashamed to recall them. 

SAVVA 

Don't recall them then. 

KONDRATY ( to Lipa) 

I was lying in a mud puddle in all my dignity, like 
a regular hog. 
up a (disgusted) 
All right. 

KONDRATY 

But I am not ashamed to speak of it ; first, because 
many people saw it, and of course nobody took the 
trouble to get me out of it except Sawa Yegorovich, 
and secondly, because I regard this as my cross. 

LIPA 

A fine cross ! 



act i] SAVVA 35 

KONDRATY 

Every man, Miss Olympiada, has his cross. It is n't 
so very nice to be lying in a mud puddle. Dry 
ground is pleasanter every time. And do you know, 
I think half of the water in that puddle was my own 
tears, and my woeful lamentations made ripples on 
it — 

SAVVA 

That 's not quite so, Kondraty. You were singing 
a song : " And we 're baptized of him in Jordan " — 
to a very jolly tune at that. 

KONDRATY 

You don't say! What of it? So much the worse. 
It shows to what depths a man will descend. 

SAVVA 

Don't assume a melancholy air, father. You 're 
quite a jovial fellow by nature, and the assumption 
of grief does n't go well with your face, I assure you. 

KONDRATY 

True, Savva Yegorovich, I was a jolly fellow; but 
that was before I entered the monastery. As soon 
as I came here I took a tumble, so to speak; I lost 
my joviality and serenity and learned to know what 
real sorrow is. 

[Tony enters and remains standing m the doorway 
gazing ecstatically at the monk, 

SAVVA 

Why so? 
kondraty (stepping nearer and speaking in a lowered 
voice) There is no God here — there 's only the 
devil. This is a terrible place to live in, on my word 
it is, Mr. Savva. I am a man with a large experience. 



36 SAVVA [act i 

It 's no easy thing to frighten me. But I am afraid 
to walk in the hall at night. 

SAVVA 

What devil? 

KONDRATY 

The ordinary one. To you, educated people, he 
appears in a nobler aspect of course; but to us 
plain, simple people, he reveals himself as he really is. 

SAVVA 

With horns? 

KONDRATY 

How can I tell ? I never saw the horns ; but that 's 
not the point, although I may say that his shadow 
clearly shows the horns. The thing is that we have 
no peace in our monastery; there is always such a 
noise and clatter there. Everything is quiet out- 
side; but inside there are groans and gnashing of 
teeth. Some groan, some whine, and some complain 
about something, you can't tell what. When you 
pass the doors, you feel as if your soul were taking 
leave of the world behind every door. Suddenly 
something glides from around the corner — and 
there 's a shadow on the wall. Nothing at all — 
and yet there 's a shadow on the wall. In other 
places it makes no difference. You pay no attention 
to such a trifle as a shadow ; but here, Sawa Yegoro- 
vich, they are alive, and you can almost hear them 
speak. On my word of honor ! Our hall, you know, 
is so long that it seems never to end. You enter — 
nothing! You see a sort of black object moving in 
front of you, something like the figure of a man. 
Then it stretches out, grows larger and larger and 



act i] SAVVA 37 

wider and wider until it reaches across the ceiling, 
and then it 's behind you ! You keep on walking. 
Your senses become paralyzed. You lose all con- 
sciousness. 
savva (to Tony) 

What are you staring at? 

TONY 

What a face ! 

KONDRATY 

And God too is impotent here. Of course we have 
sacred relics and a wonder-working ikon; but, if 
you '11 excuse me for saying so, they have no efficacy. 

LIPA 

What are you saying? 

KONDRATY 

None whatever. If you don't believe me, ask the 
other monks. They '11 bear me out. We pray and 
pray, and beat our foreheads, and the result is 
nothing, absolutely nothing. If the image did 
nothing else than drive away the impure power! 
But it can't do even that. It hangs there as if it 
were none of its business, and as soon as night comes, 
the stir and the gliding and the flitting around the 
corners begin again. The abbot says we are cowards, 
poor in spirit, and that we ought to be ashamed. 
But why are the images ineffective? The monks in 
the monastery say — 

LIPA 

Well? 

KONDRATY 

But it *s hard to believe it. It 's impossible. They 
say that the devil stole the real image long ago — 



38 SAVVA [act i 

the one that could perform miracles — and hung up 
his own picture instead. 

LIPA 

Oh, God, what blasphemy ! Why are n't you ashamed 
to believe such vile, horrid stuff? You who are 
wearing a monk's robe at that! You really ought 
to be lying in a puddle — it 's the proper place for 
you. 

SAVVA 

Now, now, don't get mad. Don't mind her, Father 
Kondraty, she does n't mean it. She is a good girl. 
But really, why don't you leave the monastery? 
Why do you want to be fooling about here with 
shadows and devils? 
kondraty (shrugging his shoulders) 

I would like to leave; but where am I to go? I 
dropped work long ago. I am not used to it any 
more. Here at least I don't have to worry about 
how to get a piece of bread. And as for the devil 
(cautiously winking to Sawa as he turns to the 
window and fillips his neck with his fingers) I have 
a means against him. 

SAVVA 

Well, let 's go out and have a talk. You, face, will 
you send us some whiskey? 
tony (gloomily) 

He is n't telling the truth. There are no devils either. 
The devil could n't have hung up his picture if 
there 's no devil. It 's impossible. He had better 
ask me. 

SAVVA 

All right, we '11 speak about that later. Send us 
whiskey. 



act i] SAVVA 39 

tony (goes) 

I won't send you any whiskey either. 

SAVVA 

What a stupid fellow! I tell you what, father. 
You go out into the garden through that door. I '11 
be with you in a moment. Don't lose yourself. 
(He goes out after Tony) 

KONDEATY 

Good-bye, Miss Olympiada. 

[Lipa does n't answer. When Kondraty has left, 

she walks around the room a few times, agitated, 

waiting for Sawa. 
savva (entering) 

Well, what a fool! 
lipa (barring his way) 

I know why you came here. I know! Don't you 

dare! 

SAVVA 

What's that? 

LIPA 

When I heard you talk, I thought it was just words, 
but now — Come to your senses ! Think ! You 've 
gone crazy. What do you mean to do? 
savva 

Let me go. 

LIPA 

I listened to you and laughed! Good Lord! I feel 

as if I had awakened from a terrible dream. Or is 

it all a dream ? What was the monk here for ? What 
for? 

SAVVA 

Now that will do. You have had your say ; that 's 
enough. Let me go. 



40 SAVVA [act i 

LIPA 

Don't you see you have gone crazy? Do you under- 
stand? You are out of your mind. 

SAVVA 

I 'm sick of hearing you repeat that. Let go. 

LIPA 

Savva ; dear, darling Sawa — No ? Very well, you 
won't listen to me ? Very well. You '11 see, Sawa, 
you '11 see. You ought to have your hands and 
feet tied. And you will be bound, too. There are 
people who will do it. Oh, God! What does this 
mean? Stay! Stay! Savva! 

sawa (going) 

All right, all right. 

lipa (shouting) 

I '11 denounce you. Murderer ! Ruffian ! I '11 de- 
nounce you. 

savva (turning round) 

Oho! You had better be more careful. (Puts his 
hand on her shoulder and looks into her eyes) You 
had better be more careful, I say. 

LIPA 

You — (For about three seconds there is a struggle 

between the two pairs of eyes, after which Lipa turns 

aside, biting her lips) I am not afraid of you. 
savva 

That 's better. But don't shout. One should never 

shout. (Exit) 
lipa (alone) 

What does this mean? What am I to do? (The 

liens cluck) 
yegor tropinin (m the door) 

What 's the matter ? What 's the row here — hey ? 



act i] SAVVA 41 

I was gone just half an hour, and everything has 
gone topsy-turvy. Lipa, why did you let the chick- 
ens get into the raspberry bushes? Go and drive 
'em away, damn you ! I am talking to you — yes, to 
you ! Go, or I '11 go you, I '11 go you, I '11 — 

CURTAIN 



THE SECOND ACT 

Within the enclosure of the monastery. In the rear, 
at the left, appear the monastery buildings, the re- 
fectory, monks 9 cells, parts of the church and the 
steeple, all connected by passageways with arched 
gates. Board-walks run in different directions in the 
court. At the right the corner of the steeple wall is 
seen slightly jutting out. Nestling against it is a small 
monastic cemetery surrounded by a light, grilled iron 
fence. Marble monuments and slabs of stone and iron 
are sunk deep into the earth. All are old and twisted. 
It is a long time since anyone was buried there. The 
cemetery contains also some wild rose-bushes and two 
or three rather small trees. 

It is evening, after vespers. Long shadows are fall- 
ing from the tower and the walls. The monastery and 
the steeple are bathed in the reddish light of the setting 
sun. Monks, novices and pilgrims pass along the 
board-walks. In the beginning of the act may be heard 
behind the scenes the driving of a village herd, the crack- 
ing of a herdsman's whip, the bleating of sheep, the 
lowing of cattle, and dull cries. Toward the end of 
the act it grows much darker, and the movement m the 
yard ceases almost entirely. 

Savva, Speransky, and the Young Friar are seated 
on a bench by the iron fence. Speransky is holding his 
hat on his knees, and now and then he strokes his long, 
straight hair, which is hanging in two mournful strands 



act n] SAVVA 



over his long, pale face. He holds his legs together^ 
speaks in a low, sad tone, and gesticulates with ex- 
tended forefinger. The Friar, young, round-faced, and 
vigorous, pays no attention to the conversation, but is 
smiling continually, as if at his own thoughts. 

savva (preoccupied, looking aside) 

Yes. What kind of work do you do here? 

SPERANSKY 

None at all, Mr. Savva. How can a man in my con- 
dition do any work? Once a man begins to doubt 
his own existence, the obligation to work naturally 
ceases to exist for him. But the deacon's wife does 
not understand it. She is a very stupid woman, ut- 
terly lacking in education, and, moreover, of an 
unlovely, cruel disposition. She insists on making 
me work. But you can imagine the sort of work I 
do under the circumstances. You see, the situation 
is this. I have a splendid appetite. That appetite 
began to develop while I was yet a student in the 
seminary. Now this deaconess, if you please, makes 
a fuss about every piece of bread I eat. She does n't 
understand, the ignorant woman, the possibility of 
the non-existence of this piece of bread. If I had 
a real existence like the rest of you, I should feel 
very bad, but in my present condition her attacks 
don't affect me in the least. Nothing affects me, 
Mr. Savva, nothing in the wide world. 
savva (smilmg at the Friar 9 s unconscious joy, but still 
preoccupied) How long have you been in this 
condition? 

SPERANSKY 

It began in the seminary while I was studying philos- 



SAVVA [act n 



ophy. It is a dreadful condition, Mr. Sawa. I 
have grown somewhat accustomed to it now, but at 
first it was unendurable. I tried to hang myself 
once, and they cut me down. Then I tried a second 
time, and they cut me down again. Then they 
turned me out of the seminary. " Go hang yourself 
in some other place, you madman," they said. As 
if there were any other place ! As if all places were 
not the same! 

THE FRIAR 

Mr. Sawa, let 's go fishing to-morrow at the mill. 

SAVVA 

I don't like fishing. It bores me. 

FRIAR 

I 'm sorry. Well then, let 's go into the woods and 
knock down the dry branches of trees. It 's fine 
sport to walk about in the forest and knock off 
the branches with a stick. And when you shout 
" Ho-ho-ho ! " the echo from the ravine answers back 
" Ho-ho-ho ! " Do you like swimming? 

SAVVA 

Yes, I like it. I am a good swimmer. 

FRIAR 

I like it too. 
speransky (with a deep sigh) 

Yes, it 's a strange condition. 
sawa {smiling at the Friar) 

Eh? Well, how are you now? 

SPERANSKY 

When my uncle took me to his house, he made me 
promise I would never attempt suicide again. That 
was the only condition on which he would consent to 
let me live with him. " All right," I said ; " if we 



act n] SAVVA 45 

really exist, then I won't make any further attempt 
to hang myself." 

SAVVA 

Why do you want to know whether you exist or not ? 
There is the sky. Look, how beautiful it is. There 
are the swallows and the sweet-scented grass. It 's 
fine! (To the Friar) Fine, isn't it, Vassya? 

FRIAR 

Mr. Sawa, do you like to tear up ant-hills? 

SAVVA 

I don't know. I never tried. 

FRIAR 

I like it. Do you like to fly kites? 

SAVVA 

It 's a long time since I tried to. I used to like it 
very much. 
speransky {patiently awaiting the end of their conver- 
sation) Swallows ! What good is their flying to 
me? Anyhow, maybe swallows don't exist either, 
and it 's all a dream. 

SAVVA 

Suppose it is a dream. Dreams are very beautiful 
sometimes, you know. 

SPERANSKY 

I should like to wake up, but I can't. I wander 
around and wander around until I am weary and 
feeble, and when I rouse myself I find I am here, in 
the very same place. There is the monastery and the 
belfry, and the clock strikes the hour. And it 's all 
like a dream, a fantasy. You close your eyes, and it 
does n't exist. You open them, and it 's there again. 
Sometimes I go out into the fields at night and close 
my eyes, and then it seems to me there is nothing 



46 SAVVA [act ii 

at all existing. Suddenly the quail begin to call, 
and a wagon rolls down the road. Again a dream. 
For if you stopped up your ears, you would n't hear 
those sounds. When I die, everything will grow 
silent, and then it will be true. Only the dead know 
the truth, Mr. Savva. 

friar (smUmg, cautiously waving his hands at a bird; 
in a whisper) It 's time to go to bed, time to go to 
bed. 

savva {impatiently) 

What dead? Listen, my dear sir. I have a plain, 
simple, peasant mind, and I don't understand those 
subtleties. What dead are you talking about? 

SPERANSKY 

About all the dead, every one without exception. 
That 's why the faces of the dead are so serene. 
Whatever agonies a man may have suffered before 
his death, the moment he dies his face becomes serene. 
That 's because he has learned the truth. I always 
come here to attend the funerals. It 's astonishing. 
There was a woman buried here. She had died of 
grief because her husband was crushed under a loco- 
motive. You can imagine what must have been going 
on in her mind before her death. It 's too horrible 
to think of. Yet she lay there, in the coffin, absolutely 
serene and calm. That 's because she had come to 
know that her grief was nothing but a dream, a 
mere phantom. I like the dead, Mr. Savva. I think 
the dead really exist. 

SAVVA 

I don't like the dead. {Impatiently) You are a 
very disagreeable fellow. Has anybody ever told 
you that? 



act n] SAVVA 47 

SPERANSKY 

Yes, I have heard it before. 

SAVVA 

I would never have taken you out of the noose. 
What damn fool did it anyway? 

SPERANSKY 

The first time it was the Father Steward, the next 
time my classmates. I am very sorry you disap- 
prove of me, Mr. Tropinin. As you are an edu- 
cated man, I should have liked to show you a bit of 
writing I did while I was in the seminary. It 's 
called "The Tramp of Death." It's a sort of 
story. 

SAVVA 

No, spare me, please. Altogether I wish you 'd — 
friar (rising) 

There comes Father Kirill. I had better beat it. 

SAVVA 

Why? 

FRIAR 

He came across me in the forest the other day when 
I was shouting " Ho ! Ho ! " " Ah," said he, " you 
forest sprite with goat's feet ! " To-morrow after 
dinner, all right? (Walks away, sedately at -first, 
but then with a sort of dancing step) 
fat monk (approaches) 

Well, young men, having a pleasant chat? Are you 
Mr. Tropinin's son? 

SAVVA 

I am the man. 

FAT MONK 

I have heard about you. A decent, respectable 
gentleman your father is. May I sit down? (He 



48 SAVVA [act n 

sits down) The sun has set, yet it 's still hot. I 
wonder if we '11 have a storm to-night. Well, young 
man, how do you like it here? How does this place 
compare with the metropolis ? 

SAVVA 

It 's a rich monastery. 

FAT MONK 

Yes, thank the Lord. It 's celebrated all over 
Russia. There are many who come here even from 
Siberia. Its fame reaches far. There '11 soon be a 
feast-day, and — 

SPERANSKY 

You '11 work yourself sick, father. Services day and 
night. 

FAT MONK 

Yes, we must do our best for the monastery. 

SAVVA 

Not for the people? 

FAT MONK 

Yes, for the people too. For whom else? Last year 
a large number of epileptics were cured; quite a lot 
of them. One blind man had his eyesight restored, 
and two paralytics were made to walk. You '11 see 
for yourself, young man, and then you won't smile. 
I have heard that you are an unbeliever. 

SAVVA 

You have heard correctly. I am an unbeliever. 

FAT MONK 

It 's a shame, a shame. Of course, there are many 
unbelievers nowadays among the educated classes. 
But are they any happier on that account? I 
doubt it. 



act n] SAVVA 49 

SAVVA 

No, there are not so many. They think they are 
unbelievers because they don't go to church. As a 
matter of fact, they have greater faith than you. 
It 's more deep-seated. 

FAT MONK 

Is that so? 

SAVVA 

Yes, yes. The form of their faith is, of course, 
more refined. They are cultured, you see. 

FAT MONK 

Of course, of course. People feel better, feel more 
confident and secure, if they believe. 

SAVVA 

They say the devil is choking the monks here every 
night. 
fat monk (laughing) 

Nonsense. (To the Gray Monk passing by) 
Father Vissarion, come here a moment. Sit down. 
Mr. Tropinin's son here says the devil chokes us 
every night. Have you heard about it? (The two 
monks laugh good-naturedly as they look at each 
other) 

GRAY MONK 

Some of the monks can't sleep well because they have 
overeaten, so they think they are being choked. 
Why, young man, the devil can't enter within our 
sacred precincts. 

SAVVA 

But suppose he does suddenly put in an appearance? 
What will you do then? 

FAT MONK 

We '11 get after him with the holy-water sprinkler, 



50 SAVVA [act ii 

that 's what we '11 do. " Don't butt in where you 
have no business to, you black-faced booby! " (The 
monk laughs) 

GRAY MONK 

Here comes King Herod. 

FAT MONK 

Wait a while, Father Vissarion. (To Sawa) You 
talk about faith and such things. There 's a man 
for you — look at him — see how he walks. And 
yet he has chains on him weighing four hundred 
pounds. He does n't walk, he dances. He visits 
us every summer, and I must say he is a very valu- 
able guest. His example strengthens others in their 
faith. Herod! Ho, Herod! 

KING HEROD 

What do you want? 

FAT MONK 

Come here a minute. This gentleman doubts the 
existence of God. Talk to him. 

KING HEROD 

What 's the matter with yourself? Are you so full 
of booze that you can't wag your own tongue? 

FAT MONK 

You heretic! What a heretic! (Both monks 
laugh) 
king herod (approaching) 
What gentleman? 

FAT MONK 

This one. 
king herod (scrutinizing him) 

He doubts ? Let him doubt. It 's none of my 
business. 



act n] SAVVA 51 

SAVVA 

Oh! 

KING HEROD 

Why, what did you think? 

FAT MONK 

Sit down, please. 

KING HEROD 

Never mind. I 'd rather stand. 
fat monk ( to Savva, m a loud whisper) 

He is doing that to wear himself out. Until he has 
reduced himself to absolute faintness he '11 neither 
sleep nor eat. (Aloud) This gentleman is wonder- 
ing at the kind of chains you have on your body. 

KING HEROD 

Chains? Just baby rattles. Put them on a horse 
and he too would carry them if he had the strength. 
I have a sad heart. (Looks at Sawa) You know, I 
killed my own son. Yes, I did. Have they been 
telling you about me, these chatterboxes? 

SAVVA 

They have. 

KING HEROD 

Can you understand it? 

SAVVA 

Why not? Yes, I can. 

KING HEROD 

You lie — you can't. No one can understand it. 
Go through the whole world, search round the whole 
globe, ask everybody — no one will be able to tell 
you, no one will understand. And if anyone says 
he does, take it from me that he lies, lies just as you 
do. Why, you can't even see your own nose prop- 
erly, yet you have the brazenness to say you under- 



52 SAVVA [act ii 

stand. Go. You are a foolish boy, that 's what 
you are. 

SAVVA 

And you are wise? 

KING HEROD 

I am wise. My sorrow has made me so. It is a great 
sorrow. There is none greater on earth. I killed 
my son with my own hand. Not the hand you are 
looking at, but the one which is n't here. 

SAVVA 

Where is it? 

KING HEROD 

I burnt it. I held it in the stove and let it burn up 
to my elbow. 

SAVVA 

Did that relieve you? 

KING HEROD 

No. Fire cannot destroy my grief. It burns with 
a heat that is greater than fire. 

SAVVA 

Fire, brother, destroys everything. 

KING HEROD 

No, young man, fire is weak. Spit on it and it is 
quenched. 

SAVVA 

What fire? It is possible to kindle such a conflagra- 
tion that an ocean of water will not quench it. 

KING HEROD 

No, boy. Every fire goes out when its time comes. 
My grief is great, so great that when I look around 
me I say to myself: Good heavens, what has become 
of everything else that's large and great? Where 
has it all gone to? The forest is small, the house is 



, 



act n] SAVVA 53 

small, the mountain is small, the whole earth is small, 
a mere poppy seed. You have to walk cautiously and 
look out, lest you reach the end and drop off. 
fat monk (pleased) 

Fine, King Herod, you are going it strong. 

KING HEROD 

Even the sun does not rise for me. For others it 
rises, but for me it does n't. Others don't see the 
darkness by day, but I see it. It penetrates the light 
like dust. At first I seem to see a sort of light, but 
then — good heavens, the sky is dark, the earth is 
dark, all is like soot. Yonder is something vague 
and misty. I can't even make out what it is. Is it 
a human being, is it a bush? My grief is great, 
immense! (Grows pensive) If I cried, who would 
hear me? If I shouted, who would respond? 

fat monk ( to the Gray Monk) 
The dogs in the village might. 

king herod (shaking his head) 

O you people ! You are looking at me as at a mon- 
strosity — at my hair, my chains — because I killed 
my son and because I am like King Herod; but 
my soul you see not, and my grief you know not. 
You are as blind as earthworms. You would n't 
know if you were struck with a beam on the head. 
Say, you pot-belly, what are you shaking your 
paunch for? 

SAVVA 

Why — the way he talks to you ! 
fat monk (reassuringly) 

It 's nothing. He treats us all like that. He up- 
braids us all. 



54 SAVVA [act ii 

KING HEROD 

Yes, and I will continue to upbraid. Fellows like 
you are not fit to serve God. What you ought to do 
is to sit in a drinkshop amusing Satan. The devils 
use your belly to go sleigh-riding on at night. 
fat monk {good-naturedly) 

Well, well, God be with you. You had better speak 
about yourself ; stick to that. 

KING HEROD (to SatWa) 

You see? He wants to feast on my agony. Go 
ahead, feast all you want. 

GRAY MONK 

My, what a scold you are. Where do you get your 
vocabulary? He once told the Father Superior that 
if God were not immortal he, the Father Superior, 
would long ago have sold him piece by piece. But 
we tolerate him. He can do no harm in a monastery. 

FAT MONK 

He attracts people. Many come here for his sake. 
And what difference does it make to us? God sees 
our purity. Is n't that so, King Herod? 

KING HEROD 

Oh, shut up, you old dotard. Look at him; he 
can scarcely move his legs, old Harry with the evil 
eye. Keeps three women in the village; one is not 
enough for him. (The monks laugh good-naturedly) 
You see, you see? Whew! Look at their brazen, 
shameless eyes ! Might as well spit on them ! 

SAVVA 

Why do you come here? 

KING HEROD 

Not for them. Listen, young man. Have you a 
grief? 



act n] SAVVA 55 

SAVVA 

Perhaps I have. Why? 

KING HEROD 

Then listen to me. When you are in sorrow, when 
you are suffering, don't go to people. If you have 
a friend, don't go to him. It's more than you'll 
be able to stand. Better go to the wolves in the 
forest. They '11 make short work of it, devour you 
at once, and there will be the end of it. I have seen 
many evil things, but I have never seen anything 
worse than man. No, never! They say men are 
created in His image, in His likeness. Why, you 
skunks, you have no image. If you had one, the 
tiniest excuse for one, you would crawl away on all 
fours and hide somewhere from sheer shame. You 
damned skunks! Laugh at them, cry before them, 
shout at them. It does n't make any difference. 
They go on licking their chops. King Herod — 
Damned skunks! And when King Herod — not I, 
but the real one with a golden crown — killed your 
children, where were you — hey ? 

FAT MONK 

We were n't even in the world then, man. 

KING HEROD 

Then there were others like you. He killed. You 
accepted it. That 's all. I have asked many the 
question : " What would you have done ? " " Noth- 
ing," they always reply. " If he killed, what could 
be done about it ? " Fine creatures ! Have n't the 
manliness to stand up even for their children. They 
are worse than dogs, damn them ! 

FAT MONK 

And what would you have done? 



56 SAVVA [act ii 

KING HEROD 

I? I should have wrung his neck from off his royal 
gold crown — the confounded brute ! 

GRAY MONK 

It says in the scripture : " Render unto Caesar the 
things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that 
are God's." 

FAT MONK 

That is to say, don't interfere with other people's 
business. Do you understand? 
king herod (to Sawa, in despair) 

Just listen, listen to what they are saying. 

SAVVA 

I hear what they are saying. 

KING HEROD 

Just you wait, my precious ! You '11 get what 's com- 
ing to you, and mighty quick. The devil will come 
and hurl you into the fiery pit. To hell, to gehenna, 
with you! How your fat will melt and run! Do 
you get the smell, monk? 

FAT MONK 

That 's from the refectory. 

KING HEROD 

You are on the run, fast as your feet can carry you ! 
Ah! but where to? Everywhere is hell, everywhere 
is fire. You refused to hearken unto me, my pet; 
now you shall hearken unto the fire. Won't I be 
glad, won't I rej oice ! I '11 take off my chains so that 
I can catch them and present them to the devil — 
first one, then the other. Here, take him. And the 
howl they '11 set up, and the weeping and lamentation. 
"I am not guilty." Not guilty? Who, then, is — 
who? To gehenna with you! Burn, you damned 



act n] SAVVA 57 

hypocrites, until the second Advent. And then we '11 
build a new fire, then we '11 build a new fire. 

GRAY MONK 

Is n't it time for us to go, Father Kirill? 

FAT MONK 

Yes, we had better be moving along. It 's getting 
dark, and it 's time to retire. 

KING HEROD 

Aha ! You don't like to hear the truth. It is n't 
pleasant, is it? 

FAT MONK 

Hee-hee, brother, talk is cheap. A barking dog 
does n't bite. Scold away, scold away. We are 
listening. God in heaven will decide who is to go to 
hell and who elsewhere. " The meek shall inherit the 
earth," says the Gospel. Good-bye, young gentlemen. 
gray monk ( to King Herod) 

Let me give you a piece of advice, however. Talk, 
but don't talk too much. Don't go too far. We 
are only tolerating you because you are a pitiful 
creature and because you are foolish. But if you 
give your tongue too free a rein, we can stop it, you 
know. Yes, indeed. 

KING HEROD 

All right, try — try to stop me. 

FAT MONK 

What's the use, Father Vissarion? Let him talk. 
It does n't do any harm. Listen, listen, young gentle- 
men. He is an interesting fellow. Good night. 
[They go. The Fat Monk is heard laughing heartily. 

KING HEROD (to Sawa) 

Fine specimens. I can't stand them. 



58 SAVVA [act n 

SAVVA 

I like you, uncle. 

KING HEROD 

Do you? So you don't like their kind either? 

SAVVA 

No, I don't. 

KING HEROD 

Well, I '11 sit down for a while. My legs are swollen. 
Have you got a cigarette? 
savva (handing him a cigarette) 
Do you smoke? 

KING HEROD 

Sometimes. Excuse me for having talked to you 
the way I did before. You are a good fellow. But 
why did you lie and say you understood? No one 
can understand it. Who is this with you? 

SAVVA 

Oh, he just happened along. 

KING HEROD 

Well, brother, feeling bad, down in the mouth? 

SPERANSKY 

Yes, I feel blue. 

KING HEROD 

Keep still, keep still, I don't want to listen. You 
are suffering? Keep still. I am a man too, brother, 
so I don't understand. I '11 insult you if you don't 
look out. (Throws away the cigarette) No, I can't. 
As long as I keep standing or walking I manage some- 
how. The moment I sit down, it 's hell. Ow-w-w — 
(Writhing in agony) I simply can't catch my 
breath. Oh, God, do you see my torture? Eh? 
Well, well, it 's nothing. It 's gone. Oh ! Ow-w ! 
[The sky has become overcast with clouds. It turns 



act n] SAWA 59 

dark quickly. Now and then there are flashes of 
lightning. 
savva (quietly) 

One must try to stifle one's grief, old man. Fight 
it. Say to yourself firmly and resolutely : " I don't 
want it." And it will cease to be. You seem to be 
a good, strong man. 

KING HEROD 

No, friend, my grief is such that even death won't 
remove it. What is death? It is little, insignificant, 
and my grief is great. No, death won't end my 
grief. There was Cain. Even when he died, his 
sorrow remained. 

SPERANSKY 

The dead do not grieve. They are serene. They 
know the truth. 

KING HEROD 

But they don't tell it to anybody. What 's the good 
of such truth? Here am I alive, and yet I know the 
'truth. Here am I with my sorrow. You see what it 
is — there is no greater on earth. And yet if God 
spoke to me and said, " Yeremey, I will give you the 
whole earth if you give me your grief," I would n't 
give it away. I will not give it away, friend. It is 
sweeter to me than honey; it is stronger than the 
strongest drink. Through it I have learned the 
truth. 
savva 
God? 

KING HEROD 

Christ — that 's the one ! He alone can understand 
the sorrow that is in me. He sees and understands. 
" Yes, Yeremey, I see how you suffer." That 's all. 



60 SAVVA [act ii 



a 



I see." And I answer Him: " Yes, O Lord, behold 
my sorrow ! " That 's all. No more is necessary. 

SAVVA 

What you value in Christ is His suffering for the 
people, is that it? 

KING HEROD 

You mean his crucifixion? No, brother, that suffer- 
ing was a trifle. They crucified Him — what did 
that matter? The important point was that thereby 
He came to know the truth. As long as He walked 
the earth, He was — well — a man, rather a good 
man — talking here and there about this and that. 
When He met someone, He would talk to him about 
this and that, teach him, and tell him a few good 
things to put him on the right track. But when 
these same fellows carried Him off to the cross and 
went at Him with knouts, whips, and lashes, then 
His eyes were opened. " Aha ! " He said, " so that 's 
what it is ! " And He prayed : " I cannot endure 
such suffering. I thought it would be a simple 
crucifixion ; but, O Father in Heaven, what is this ? " 
And the Father said to Him: " Never mind, never 
mind, Son ! Know the truth, know what it is." And 
from then on, He fell to sorrowing, and has been 
sorrowing to this day. 

SAVVA 

Sorrowing? 

KING HEROD 

Yes, friend, he is sorrowing. (Pause. Lightning) 

SPERANSKY 

It looks like rain, and I am without rubbers and 
umbrella. 



act h] SAVVA 61 

KING HEROD 

And everywhere, wheresoever I go, wheresoever I 
turn, I see before me His pure visage. " Do you 
understand my suffering, O Lord? " " I understand, 
Yeremey, I understand everything. Go your way in 
peace." I am to Him like a transparent crystal with 
a tear inside. "You understand, Lord?" "I 
understand, Yeremey." " Well, and I understand 
you too." So we live together. He with me, I with 
Him. I am sorry for Him also. When I die, I 
will transmit my sorrow to Him. " Take it, Lord." 

SAVVA 

But after all, you are not quite right in running down 
the people the way you do. There are some good 
men also — very few — but there are some. Other- 
wise it would n't be of any use to live. 

KING HEROD 

No, friend, there are none. I don't want to fool 
you — there are none. You know, it was they who 
christened me with the name of King Herod. 

SAVVA 

Who? 

KING HEROD 

Why, your people. There is no beast more cruel 
than man. I killed my boy, so I am King Herod to 
them. Damn them, it never enters their minds how 
terrible it is for me to be burdened with such a nick- 
name. Herod! If they only called me so out of 
spite ! But not at all. 

SAVVA 

What is your real name? 

KING HEROD 

Yeremey. That 's my name — Yeremey. But they 



62 SAVVA [act ii 

call me Herod, carefully adding King, so that there 
may be no mistake. Look, there comes another 
monk, a plague on him. Say, did you ever see His 
countenance? 

SAVVA 

I did. 

KING HEROD 

And did you see His eyes? No? Then look, try to 
see them — Where is he off to, the bat? To the 
village to his women. 
kondraty (enter s) 

Peace be with you, honest folks. Good evening, 
Savva. To what lucky chance do I owe this meeting? 

KING HEROD 

Look, monk, the devil's tail is sticking out of your 
pocket. 

KONDRATY 

It is n't the devil's tail, it 's a radish. You 're 
very clever, but you did n't hit it right that time. 
king herod (spitting in disgust) 

I can't bear to look at them. They turn my stomach. 
Good-bye, friend. Remember what I told you. 
When you are in sorrow, don't go to people. 

SAVVA 

All right, uncle, I understand. 

KING HEROD 

Rather go to the forest to the wolves. (Goes out; 
his voice is heard out of the darkness) Oh, Lord, 
do you see? 

KONDRATY 

A narrow-minded fool. Killed his son and puts on 
airs. You can't get by him. He won't let you alone. 



act n] SAVVA 63 

It 's something to be proud of, is n't it, to have killed 
one's own son? A great thing. 
speransky (with a sigh) 

No, Father Kondraty, you are mistaken. He is a 
happy man. If his son were brought to life this 
moment, he would instantly kill him. He would n't 
give him five minutes to live. But of course when he 
dies, he '11 know the truth, 

KONDRATY 

That 's what I said, you fool. If it were a cat he 
killed, he might have some reason to be proud — but 
his own son! What are you thinking about, Sawa 
Yegorovich? 

SAVVA 

I am waiting. I should like to know how soon this 
gentleman will go. The devil brought him, I think. 
Now, here comes someone else. (Peers into the 
darkness) 
upa (approaching. She stops and hesitates) 
Is that you, Sawa? 

SAVVA 

Yes, and is that you? What do you want? I don't 
like people to follow me everywhere I go, sister. 

IIPA 

The gate to this place is open. Everybody has a 
right to come in. Mr. Speransky, Tony has been 
asking for you. He wants the seminarist, he says. 

SAVVA 

There, go together — a jolly pair. Good-bye, sir, 
good-bye. 

SPERANSKY 

Good-bye. I hope I '11 see you soon again, Mr. 
Sawa, and have another talk. 



64 SAVVA [act n 

SAVVA 

No, don't try, please. Abandon the hope. Good- 
bye. 

LIPA 

How rude you are, Sawa. Come, Mr. Speransky. 
They have business of their own to attend to. 

SPERANSKY 

Still I have n't given up hope. Good-bye. (Goes 
out) 

SAVVA 

Just grabbed me and stuck — the devil take him ! 
kondraty (laughing) 

Yes, he is a sticker from the word go. If he likes 
you, you can't shake him off. He '11 follow you 
everywhere. We call him the " shadow " — partly, 
I suppose, because he is so thin. He has taken a 
fancy to you, so you '11 have a time of it. He '11 
stick to you like a leech. 

SAVVA 

I am not in the habit of wasting a lot of words. I '11 
give him the slip without much ceremony. 

KONDRATY 

They have even tried beating him, but it does n't do 
any good. He is known here for miles around. He 
is a character. 

[A pause. Lightning. Every now and then is heard 
the roll of distant thunder. 

SAVVA 

Why did you tell me to meet you here in this public 
place where everyone may come? They fell on me 
like a swarm of fleas — monks and all sorts of im- 
beciles. I 'd rather have spoken to you in the woods, 
where we could be let alone. 



act n] SAVVA 65 

KONDRATY 

I did it to escape suspicion. If I went with you to 
the woods they 'd say : " What has a God-fearing 
man like Kondraty got to do with such a fellow? " 
I hope you pardon ! " Why is he so thick with 
him ? " I purposely timed my coming so that they 'd 
see us together with others. 

savva (looking fixedly at him) 
Well? 

kondraty (turning away his eyes and shrugging his 
shoulders) I can't. 

SAVVA 

You are afraid? 

KONDRATY 

To tell the truth, I am. 
savva 

You 're no good, old chap. 

KONDRATY 

Perhaps not. You have a right to draw your own 
conclusions. (Pause) 
savva 

But what are you afraid of, you booby? The ma- 
chine is not dangerous. It won't hurt you. All you 
have to do is to put it in the right place, set it off, 
and then you can go to the village to your mistresses. 

KONDRATY 

That 's not the point. 
savva 

What then? Are you afraid of being caught? But 
I told you, if anything should happen, I '11 take the 
guilt on myself. Don't you believe me? 

KONDRATY 

Why, of course I believe you. 



66 SAVVA [act ii 

SAVVA 

What then? Do you fear God? 

KONDRATY 

Yes, I do. 

SAVVA 

But you don't believe in God — you believe in the 
devil. 

KONDRATY 

Who knows ? Maybe some day I '11 suddenly dis- 
cover that He does exist. In that case, Mr. Savva, 
I thank you, but I 'd rather not. Why should I? 
I live a nice, quiet existence. Of course, it 's all a 
humbug, an imposition. But what business is it of 
mine? The people want to believe — let them. It 
was n't I who invented God. 

SAVVA 

Look here. You know I could have done it myself. 
All I need have done was to take a bomb and throw 
it into the procession. That 's all. But that would 
mean the killing of many people, which at the pres- 
ent juncture would serve no useful purpose. I 
therefore ask you to do it. If you refuse, then the 
blood will rest on you. You understand? 

KONDRATY 

Why on me? I am not going to throw the bomb. 
And then, what have I got to do with them — I mean 
the people that get killed? What concern are they 
of mine? There are plenty of people in the world. 
You can't kill them all, no matter how many bombs 
you throw. 

SAVVA 

Aren't you sorry for them? 



act n] SAVVA 67 

KONDRATY 

If I were to be sorry for everybody, I should have 
no sympathy left for myself. 

SAVVA 

That 's right. You are a bright man. You have a 
good mind. I have already told you so. And yet 
you hesitate. You are clever, and yet you are afraid 
to smash a piece of wood. 

KONDRATY 

If it is nothing but a piece of wood, then why go to 
so much trouble about it? The point is, it is not a 
piece of wood, it is an image. 

SAVVA 

For me it is a piece of wood. For the people it is a 
sacred object. That is why I want to destroy it. 
Imagine how they '11 open their mouths and stare. 
Ah, brother, if you were not a coward, I would tell 
you some things. 

KONDRATY 

Go ahead and talk. It 's no sin to listen. I am not 
a coward either. I am simply careful. 

SAVVA 

This would only be the beginning, brother. 

KONDRATY 

A good beginning, I won't deny it. And what will 
be the end? 

SAVVA 

The earth stripped naked, a tabula rasa, do you 
understand? And on this naked earth, naked man, 
naked as his mother bore him. No breeches on him, 
no orders, no pockets, nothing. Imagine men with- 
out pockets. Queer, is n't it? Yes indeed, brother, 
the ikon is only the beginning. 



68 SAVVA [act ii 

KONDRATY 

Oh, they '11 make new ones. 

SAVVA 

But they won't be the same as before. And they '11 
never forget this much — that dynamite is mightier 
than their God, and that man is mightier than dyna- 
mite. Look at them; see them yonder praying and 
kneeling, not daring to raise their heads and look 
you straight in the face, mean slaves that they are! 
Then comes a real man, and smash goes the whole 
humbug. Done for! 

KONDRATY 

Really ! 

SAVVA 

And when a dozen of their idols have gone the same 
way, the slaves will begin to understand that the 
kingdom of their God is at an end, and that the 
kingdom of man has come. Lots of them will drop 
from sheer terror. Some will lose their wits, and 
others will throw themselves into the fire. They '11 
say that Antichrist has come. Think of it, Kon- 
draty ! 

KONDRATY 

And are n't you sorry for them ? 

SAVVA 

Sorry for them? Why, they built a prison for me, 
and I am to be sorry for them. They put me in a 
torture chamber, and I am to be sorry for them. 
Bah! 

KONDRATY 

Who are you to be above pity? 

SAVVA 

I? I am a man who have been born. And having 



act n] SAVVA 69 

been born, I began to look about. I saw churches 
and penitentiaries. I saw universities and houses of 
prostitution. I saw factories and picture galleries. 
I saw palaces and filthy dens. I calculated the num- 
ber of prisons there are to each gallery, and I re- 
solved that the whole edifice must go, the whole of it 
must be overturned, annihilated. And we are going 
to do it. Our day of reckoning has come. It is 
time. 

KONDRATY 

Who are "we"? 

SAVVA 

I, you Kondraty, and others. 

KONDRATY 

The people are stupid. They won't understand. 

SAVVA 

When the conflagration rages all around them, they 
will understand. Fire is a good teacher, old boy. 
Have you ever heard of Raphael? 

KONDRATY 

No, I have n't. 

SAVVA 

Well, when we are through with God, we '11 go for 
fellows like him. There are lots of them — Titian, 
Shakespeare, Byron. We '11 make a nice pile of the 
whole lot and pour oil over it. Then we '11 burn 
their cities. 

KONDRATY 

Now, now you are joking. How is that possible? 
How can you burn the cities? 

SAVVA 

No, why should I be joking? All the cities. Look 
here, what are their cities? Graves, stone graves. 



70 SAVVA [act ii 

And if you don't stop those fools, if you let them 
go on making more, they will cover the whole earth 
with stone, and then all will suffocate — all. 

KONDRATY 

The poor people will have a hard time of it. 

SAVVA 

All will be poor then. What is it that makes a man 
rich? His having a house and money, and the fact 
that he has surrounded himself with a fence. But 
when there are no houses, no money, and no fences — 

KONDRATY 

That 's so. And there won't be any legal papers 
either, no stocks, no bonds, no title-deeds. They will 
all have been burnt up. 

SAVVA 

No, there will be no legal papers. It 's work then — 
you '11 have to go to work even if you are a nobleman. 
kondraty (laughing) 

It 's funny. All will be naked as when coming out 
of a bath. 

SAVVA 

Are you a peasant, Kondraty? 

KONDRATY 

Yes, I am a peasant, sure enough. 

SAVVA 

I am a peasant also. We have nothing to lose, 
brother. We can't fare worse than we do now. 

KONDRATY 

How could it be worse? But a great many people 
will perish, Mr. Tropinin. 

SAVVA 

It makes no difference. There '11 be enough left. It 
is the good-for-nothings that will perish, the fools 



act n] SAWA 71 

to whom this life is like a shell to a crab. Those 
who believe will perish, because their faith will be 
taken away from them. Those who love the old will 
perish, because everything will be taken away from 
them. The weak, the sick, those who love quietness. 
There will be no quietness in the world, brother. 
There will remain only the free and the brave, those 
with young and eager souls and clear eyes that can 
embrace the whole universe. 

KONDRATY 

Like yours? I am afraid of your eyes, Sawa Yeg- 
orovich, especially in the dark. 
sawa 

Yes, like mine. And emancipated from everything, 
naked, armed only with their reason, they will de- 
liberate, discuss, talk things over, and build up a 
new life, a good life, Kondraty, where every man 
may breathe freely. 

KONDRATY 

It 's interesting. But men are sly creatures. Some- 
thing of the old will be left over. They '11 hide it, 
or try some other trick, and then, behold! back 
they slide to the old again, everything just as it 
was, just as of old. What then? 

SAWA 

Just as of old? (Gloomily) Then they will have to 
be wiped clean off the face of the earth. Let there 
be no living human being on earth. Enough of it ! 

kondraty (shaking his head) 
But — 

sawa (putting his hand on his shoulder) 

Believe me, monk, I have been in many cities and in 
many lands. Nowhere did I see a free man. I saw 



72 SAVVA [act n 

only slaves. I saw the cages in which they live, the 
beds on which they are born and die; I saw their 
hatreds and their loves, their sins and their good 
works. And I saw also their amusements, their piti- 
ful attempts to bring dead joy back to life again. 
And everything that I saw bore the stamp of 
stupidity and unreason. He that is born wise turns 
stupid in their midst ; he that is born cheerful hangs 
himself from boredom and sticks out his tongue at 
them. Amidst the flowers of the beautiful earth — 
you have no idea how beautiful the earth is, monk 
— they have erected insane asylums. And what are 
they doing with their children? I have never yet 
seen parents that do not deserve capital punishment ; 
first because they begot children, and secondly be- 
cause, having begot them, they did not immediately 
commit suicide. 

KONDRATY 

Good heavens, how you talk! Hearing you, one 
hardly knows what to think. 

SAVVA 

And how they lie, how they lie, monk! They don't 
kill the truth — no, they kick her and bruise her 
daily, and smear her clean face with their dirt and 
filth so that no one may recognize her, so that the 
children may not love her, and so that she may have 
no refuge. In all the world — yes, monk, in all the 
world — there is no place for truth. (Smks into 
meditation. Pause) 

KONDRATY 

Is there no other way — without fire? It 's terrible, 
Savva Yegorovich. Consider what it means ! It 's 
the end of the world. 



act n] SAVVA 73 

SAVVA 

No, it can't be helped, partner. It must be. The 
end of the world must come too. They were treated 
with medicine, and it did no good. They were 
treated with iron, and it did no good. Now they 
must be treated with fire — fire ! 
[Pause. Lightning flashes. The thunder has ceased. 
Somewhere outside a watchman can be heard striking 
his iron rod. 

KONDRATY 

And there '11 be no drinkshops either? 
savva (pensively) 
No, nothing. 

KONDRATY 

They '11 start drinkshops again all right. Can't get 

along without them, you know. (A prolonged 

pause) Ye-es. What are you thinking about, Savva 

Yegorovich? 
savva 

Nothing. (Draws a light breath, cheerfully) Well, 

Kondraty, shall we begin? 
kondraty (swaying his head to and fro) 

It 's a mighty hard problem you have put up to me. 

It 's a poser. 

SAVVA 

Never mind, don't get shaky now. You are a sensi- 
ble man; you know it can't be helped; there is 
nothing else to do. Would I be doing it myself, if 
it were not necessary? You can see that, can't you? 
kondraty (heaving a sigh) 

Ye-es, hm ! Why, Mr. Tropinin — why, my dear 
fellow — don't I know, don't I understand it all? 
It 's a rotten, cursed life ! Ah, Mr. Savva, Mr. 



74 SAVVA [act ii 

Sawa — look here. If I were to tell anyone that 
I am a good man, they 'd laugh and say : " What 
are you lying for, you drunkard? " Kondraty a 
good man! It sounds like a joke even to myself. 
And yet I swear to you, by God, I am a good man! 
I don't know how it happened the way it did, why I 
am what I am now. I lived and lived, and suddenly ! 
How it came about, what the reason of it is, I don't 
know. 

SAVVA 

And you are still afraid? 

KONDRATY 

What am I now? I am neither a candle for God nor 
a poker for the devil. Sometimes when I think 
matters over — ah, Mr. Sawa, do you think I have 
no conscience? Don't I understand? I understand 
everything but — I am not really afraid of the devil 
either. I am just playing the fool. The devil — 
nonsense ! If you were in the place of us in there, 
you would understand. Not long ago, when I was 
drunk, I cried : " Get out, devil — out of my way — 
I am a desperate man ! " I don't care for anything. 
I don't care if I die. I am ready. You have worked 
at me, Mr. Sawa, until I have grown quite soft. 
(Wipes his eyes with his sleeves) 

SAVVA 

Why should you die? I don't want to die either. 
We are going to live for some time to come, we are. 
How old are you? 

KONDRATY 

Forty-two. 

SAVVA 

Just the right age. 



act n] SAVVA 75 

KONDRATY 

I am sorry for the ikon. They say it appeared 
miraculously in the river, and that 's how it came to 
be here. 

SAVVA 

Nonsense. Don't waste your feelings. It 's sup- 
posed to be a wonder-working ikon and has n't one 
miracle to its credit. Why, it makes one feel like 
a fool just to say it. 

KONDRATY 

They say it has been replaced by the devil, so that 
it is n't the real one. 

SAVVA 

So much the better. And yet you crack your heads 
in front of it and fool the people about it. There is 
no use wasting words, my friend. It 's agreed 
then. 

KONDRATY 

You have to go now. The gate will soon be closed. 
And all of a sudden — 

SAVVA 

What "all of a sudden"? 

KONDRATY 

And all of a sudden I '11 be going to the ikon, and it 
will strike me down with lightning and thunder. 
Won't it? 
savva (laughmg) 

Don't be afraid. It won't strike you. That 's what 
everybody thinks. They are all afraid they '11 be 
struck by lightning and thunder. But it won't 
happen. Believe me, a man may blow up the ikon 
and no lightning will strike him. Do you need 
money ? 



76 SAVVA [act ii 

KONDRATY 

Have you got any? 

SAVVA 

I have. 

KONDRATY (suspiciously) 

Where did you get it? 

SAVVA 

What business is that of yours? Suppose I killed 
a rich man, or cut somebody's throat — are you go- 
ing to report me to the police? 
kondraty (reassured) 

What are you thinking of, Sawa Yegorovich? 
That 's your concern. As to your offer, of course, 
money always comes in handy. It will enable me 
to leave the monastery. I '11 tell you in confidence, 
I have long been nursing a scheme — it 's my dream 
— to settle somewhere along the road and start an 
inn. I like company. I am a talkative chap my- 
self. I know I '11 succeed. It does n't hurt a host 
to have a drink now and then. The guests like it. 
With a jolly host you '11 spend every penny you 
have, and your pants besides, and you won't notice 
it. I know by personal experience. 

SAVVA 

Why not? You can start an inn if you want to. 

KONDRATY 

And besides, I am still in the full vigor of manhood. 
Instead of sinning here, I 'd rather get legally 
married. 

SAVVA 

Don't forget to invite me to the wedding. I '11 act 
as your godfather. 



act n] SAVVA 77 

KONDRATY 

You are too young. As to the money — when shall 
it be, before or after? 

SAVVA 

Judas got his before. 
kondraty {offended) 

There now, when you should be doing your best to 
persuade me, you call me Judas. It is n't pleasant. 
The idea of calling a living man Judas ! 

SAVVA 

Judas was a fool. He hanged himself. You are 
going to start an inn. 

KONDRATY 

Again ? If that 's what you think of me — 
savva {slapping his shoulders) 

Well, well, uncle, don't you see I 'm joking? Judas 
betrayed a man, and you are not going to betray 
anything but lumber. Is that right, old man? 
\Speransky and Tony appear, the latter walking 
very unsteadily, 

KONDRATY 

There — brought by the devil ! With us carrying 
on this kind of conversation, and they — 

SAVVA 

It 's agreed then ? 

KONDRATY 

Oh, you 're too much for me. 
speransky (bowing) 

Good evening once more, Mr. Sawa Tropinin. Mr. 
Anthony and myself have just been at the other end, 
in the cemetery. A woman was buried there to-day, 
so we wanted to have a look. 



78 SAVVA [act ii 

SAVVA 

To see if she hadn't crawled out of her grave? 
What are you dragging him along with you for? 
Tony, go to bed, you can't stand on your feet. 

TONY 

I won't go. 

SPEEANSKY 

Tony is very excited to-day. He sees all kinds of 
faces. 

SAVVA 

Funny faces? 

TONY 

Yes, funny. What else can you expect? {Sadly) 
Your face, Savva, is very, very funny. 

SAVVA 

All right, go along with you! Take him home. 
What are you dragging him about with you for? 

SPEEANSKY 

Good-bye. Come along, Mr. Anthony. 
[Speransky goes out. Tony follows him, looking 
back at Savva, and stumbling as he goes along. 
They disappear in the dark. 

KONDEATY 

It 's time for us also to be going. Have you got 
that money at hand? 

SAVVA 

Yes, I have. Now listen. Sunday is the feast-day. 
You are to take the machine Saturday morning and 
plant it at night at half past eleven, four days from 
now. I '11 show you how to do it and everything else 
that 's necessary. Four days more. I am sick of 
staying in this place. 



act n] SAVVA 79 

KONDRATY 

And suppose I betray you? 
savva (darkly) 
Then I 'd kill you. 

KONDRATY 

Good heavens! 

SAVVA 

Now I am going to kill you if you merely try to 
back out. You know too much, brother. 

KONDRATY 

You are joking. 

SAVVA 

Maybe I am joking. I am such a jolly fellow. I 
like to laugh. 

KONDRATY 

When you first came here, you were gay. Tell me, 
Mr. Savva {lookmg around cautiously), did you ever 
kill a man, a real live man? 

SAVVA 

I did. I cut the throat of that rich business man I 
told you about. 
kondraty (waving his hand) 

Now I see that you are joking. Well, good-bye, I 
am going. Don't you hang around here either. The 
gate will soon be closed. Oh, my — I am never 
afraid — but just as soon as I begin to think of the 
hall, it 's awful. There are shadows there now. 
Good night. 

SAVVA 

Good night. 

[Kondraty disappears in the dark. Lightning. 

Savva remains leaning on the railing to stare at the 



80 SAVVA [act ii 

white tombstones that are momentarily revealed by 
the flashes of lightning. 
savva (to the graves) 

Well, you dead ones, are you going to turn over in 
your graves or not? For some reason I don't feel 
very cheerful — oh, ye dead — I don't feel the least 
bit cheerful. (Lightning) 

CURTAIN 



THE THIRD ACT 

A festively decorated room with three windows to the 
street. One window is open, but the curt am is drawn. 
An open door, painted dark, leads into the room seen 
m the first act. 

It is night and dark. Through the windows can be 
heard the continuous tramp of the pilgrims on their 
way to the monastery for the next day 9 s celebration. 
Some are barefoot; some wear boots or bast shoes. 
Their steps are quick and eager, or slow and weary. 
They walk singly or m groups of two or three, the 
majority in silence, though now and then suppressed, 
indistinct talking may be heard. Starting from some- 
where far off to the left, the sound of the footsteps and 
the talking, muffled at first, approaches and grows 
louder, until at times it seems to fill the whole room. 
Then it dies away in the distance again. The im- 
pression is that of some tremendous movement, elemen- 
tal and irrepressible. 

At the table, lighted only by a flickering stump of 
a tallow candle, sit Speransky and Tony. The latter 
is very drunk. Cucumbers, herrmg, a/rid bottles of 
whiskey are on the table. The rest of the room is en- 
tirely dark. Occasionally the wind blows the white cur- 
tain at the wimdow and sets the candle flame tossing. 

Tony and Speransky talk in whispers. A prolonged 
pause follows the rise of the curtain. 



82 SAVVA [act m 

tony (bending over to Speransky, mysteriously) 
So you say it is possible we do not exist, eh? 

speransky (m the same manner) 

As I have already stated, it is doubtful, extremely 
doubtful. There is very good reason to suppose 
that we really do not exist — that we don't exist 
at all. 

TONY 

And you are not, and I am not. 

SPERANSKY 

And you are not, and I am not. No one is. (Pause) 
tony (lookmg around, mysteriously) 

Where are we then? 
speransky 

We? 

TONY 

Yes, we. 
speransky 

That 's something no one can tell. No one knows, 
Anthony. 

TONY 

No one? 

SPERANSKY 

No one. 
tony {glancmg around) 
Does n't Savva know? 

SPERANSKY 

No, Sawa does n't know either. 

TONY 

Savva knows everything. 

SPERANSKY 

But even he does n't know that. 



act in] SAVVA 83 

tony (threatening with his finger) 

Keep still, keep still! (Both look around and are 

silent ) 
tony (mysteriously) 

Where are they going, eh? 

SPERANSKY 

To the elevation of the ikon. To-morrow is a feast- 
day — the day of raising the ikon. 

TONY 

No, I mean where are they really going — really — 
don't you understand? 

SPERANSKY 

I do. It is n't known. No one knows, Anthony. 

TONY 

Hush! (Makes a funny grimace, closes his mouth 
with his hand and leans on it) 
speransky (in a whisper) 
What 's the matter ? 

TONY 

Keep quiet, keep quiet. Listen. (Both are listening) 
tony (in a whisper) 
Those are faces. 

SPERANSKY 

Yes? 

TONY 

It 's faces that are going. A lot of faces — can't 
you see them? 
speransky (staring) 
No, I can't. 

TONY 

But I can. There they are, laughing. Why are n't 
you laughing, eh? 



84 SAVVA [act ni 

SPERANSKY 

I feel very despondent. 

TONY 

Laugh. You must laugh. Everybody is laughing. 
Hush, hush! (Pause) Listen, nobody exists, no*- 
body — do you understand ? There is no God, there 
is no man, there are no animals. Here is the table — 
it does n't exist. Here is the candle — it does n't 
exist. The only things that exist are faces — you 
understand? Keep quiet, keep quiet. I am very 
much afraid. 

SPERANSKY 

What are you afraid of? 
tony (bending near to Speransky) 
That I '11 die of laughter. 

SPERANSKY 

Really? 
tony (shaking his head affirmatively) 

Yes, that I '11 die of laughter. I am afraid that 
some day I '11 catch sight of a face which will send 
me off roaring with laughter ; and I '11 roar and roar 
until I die. Keep quiet. I know. 

SPERANSKY 

You never laugh. 

TONY 

I am always laughing, but you don't see it. It 's 
nothing. The only thing I am afraid is that I '11 die. 
I '11 come across a face one of these days which will 
start me off in a fit of laughter, and I '11 laugh and 
laugh and laugh and won't be able to stop. Yes, it 's 
coming, it's coming. (Wipes his cliest and neck) 

SPERANSKY 

The dead know everything. 



act m] SAVVA 85 

tony {mysteriously, with awe) 

I am afraid of Savva's face. It 's a very funny face. 
One could die laughing over it. The point is that 
you can't stop laughing — that 's the principal 
thing. You laugh and laugh and laugh. Is there 
nobody here? 

SPERANSKY 

Apparently no. 

TONY 

Keep quiet, keep quiet, I know. Keep quiet. {Pause; 
the tramp of the pilgrim's footsteps grows louder, 
as if they were wallang in the very room itself) 
Are they going? 

SPERANSKY 

Yes, they are going. {Pause) 

TONY 

I like you. Sing me that song of yours. I '11 listen. 

SPERANSKY 

With your permission, Anthony. {Sings m an un- 
dertone, almost in a whisper, a dismal, long-drawn- 
out tune somewhat resembling a litany) 

Life 's a sham, 't is false, untrue, 
Death alone is true, aye, true. 

{With increasing caution and pedantry, shaking his 
finger as if imparting a secret) 

All things tumble, vanish, break, 
Death is sure to overtake 
Outcast, tramp, and tiniest fly 
Unperceived by naked eye. 

TONY 

What? 



86 SAVVA [act ra 

SPERANSKIY 

Unperceived by naked eye, 
Wheedling, coaxing, courting, wooing, 
Death weds all to their undoing 
And the myth of life is ended. 

That 's all, Anthony. 

TONY 

Keep still, keep still. You have sung your song — 

now keep quiet. 

[Lipa enters, opens the wmdow, removes the -flowers, 

and looks out into the street. Then she lights the 

lamp, 

TONY 

Who is it? Is that you, Lipa? Lipa, eh, Lipa, 
where are they going? 

LIPA 

They are coming here for the feast-day. You had 
better go to bed, Tony, or father will see you and 
scold you. 

SPERANSKY 

Big crowds, aren't they? 

LIPA 

Yes. But it 's so dark, you can't see. Why are you 
so pale, Mr. Speransky? It is positively painful to 
look at you. 

SPERANSKY 

That 's how I feel, Miss Lipa. 

[A cautious Henoch is heard at the window. 
lipa (opening the window) 

Who is there? 
tony (to Speransky) 

Keep quiet, keep quiet. 



act m] SAVVA 87 

young friar (thrusting his smiling face through the 
window) Is Savva Yegorovich in? I wanted to ask 
him to come with me to the woods. 

LIPA 

No. Are n't you ashamed of yourself, Vassya? To- 
morrow is a big feast-day in your monastery and 
you — 
young friar (smilvng) 

There are plenty of people in the monastery without 
me. Please tell Mr. Savva that I have gone to the 
ravine to catch fireflies. Ask him to call out: 
" Ho, ho ! " 

LIPA 

What do you want fireflies for? 

YOUNG FRIAR 

Why, to scare the monks with. I '11 put two fire- 
flies next to each other like eyes, and they'll think 
it 's the devil. Tell him, please, to call : " Ho, ho, 
ho!" (He disappears in the darkness) 
lipa (shouting after him) 

He can't come to-day. (To Speransky) Gone al- 
ready — ran off. 

SPERANSKY 

They buried three in the cemetery to-day, Miss 
Olympiada. 

LIPA 

Have you seen Sawa? 

SPERANSKY 

No, I am sorry to say I have n't. I say, they buried 
three people to-day. One old man — perhaps you 
knew him — Peter Khvorostov? 

LIPA 

Yes, I knew him. So he 's dead? 



88 SAVVA [act m 

SPERANSKY 

Yes, and two children. The women wept a great 
deal. 

LIP A 

What did they die of? 

SPERANSKY 

I am sorry, but I don't know. It did n't interest me. 
Some children's disease, I suppose. When children 
die, Miss Olympiada, they turn all blue and look as 
if they wanted to cry. The faces of grown people 
are tranquil, but children's faces are not. Why is 
that so? 

IJPA 

I don't know — I 've never noticed it. 

SPERANSKY 

It 's a very interesting phenomenon. 

UPA 

There 's father now. I told you to go to bed. Now 
I 've got to listen to your brawling. I '11 get out. 
{Exit. Enter Yegor Tropinm) 

YEGOR 

Who lighted the lamp? 

SPERANSKY 

Good evening, Mr. Tropinin. 

YEGOR 

Good evening. Who lighted the lamp? 

SPERANSKY 

Miss Olympiada. 
yegor (blowing it out) 

Learned it from Sawa. (To Tony) And you, 
what 's the matter with you? How long, how long, 
for Christ's sake ! How long am I to stand all this 



act ni] SAVVA 89 

from you, you good-for-nothing loafers? Eh? 
Where did you get the whiskey, eh? 

TONY 

At the bar. 

YEGOR 

It was n't put there for you, was it ? 

TONY 

You have a very funny face, father. 

YEGOR 

Give me the whiskey. 

TONY 

I won't. 

YEGOR 

Give here! 

TONY 

I won't. 

Yegor (slaps his face) 
Give it to me, I say. 

tony (falls on the sofa, still holding on to the bottle) 
I won't. 

yegor (sitting down, calmly) 

All right, swill until you bust, devil. What was I 
saying? That fool put it out of my head. Oh yes, 
the pilgrims are going it strong this time. It 's been 
a bad year for the crops. That 's another reason, 
I suppose. There 's no grub, they have nothing to 
eat, and so they '11 pray. If God listened to every 
fool's prayer, we 'd have a fine time of it. If he 
listened to every fool, what chance would the wise 
man have? A fool remains a fool. That's why he 
is called a fool. 

SPERANSKY 

That 's correct. 



90 SAVVA [act m 

YEGOR 

I should say it is correct. Father Parfeny is a 
smart man. He flim-flams them all right. He put 
up a new coffin — did you hear that ? The old one 
has all been eaten away by the pilgrims, so he put a 
new one into its place. It was old, so he put a new 
one instead. They '11 eat that one away. No matter 
what you give them — Tony, are you drinking 
again? 

TONY 

I am. 

YEGOR 

I am ! I am ! I '11 hand you out another one in a 
moment and we '11 see what you say then. 
[Enter Sawa, looking very gay and lively. He 
stoops less than usual, talks rapidly, and looks sharp 
and straight, but his gaze does not rest long on the 
same person or object. 

SAVVA 

Ah, the philosophers! Father! A worthy assem- 
blage. Why do you keep it so dark here, like some 
hell-hole with a lot of rats in it? A philosopher has 
to have light. The dark is good only for going 
through people's pockets. Where is the lamp? Oh, 
here it is. {He lights the lamp) 
yegor {ironically) 

Perhaps you '11 open the windows too? 

SAVVA 

Quite right. I'll open the windows also. {Opens 
them) My, how they keep pouring in! 

SPERANSKIY 

A whole army. 



act in] SAVVA 91 

SAVVA 

And all of them will die in time and acquire peace. 
And then they '11 know the truth, for it never comes 
except in the society of worms. Have I got the 
essence of your optimistic philosophy down right, 
my thin, lean friend? 
speransky (with a sigh) 
You are always joking. 

SAVVA 

And you are always moping. Look here now. What 
with the poor, scanty fare the deacon's wife doles 
out to you and your constant grieving, you will soon 
die, and then your face will assume an expression of 
perfect peace. A peaked nose, and all around, 
stretching in every direction, a vast expanse of peace. 
Can't you get some comfort out of that ? Is n't it 
a consolation to you? Think of it, a tiny island of 
nose lapped in an ocean of peace. 
speransky (dejectedly) 
You are still joking. 

SAVVA 

The idea ! Who would joke about death? No, when 
you die, I '11 follow your funeral and proclaim to 
all : " Behold, here is a man who has come to know 
the truth." Oh no, I '11 rather hang you up as a 
banner of truth. And the more your skin and flesh 
decompose and crumble, the more will the truth come 
out. It will be a most instructive object lesson, 
highly educative. Tony, why are you staring at me ? 
tony (sadly) 

You have a very funny face. 

YEGOR 

What are they talking about? 



92 SAVVA [act hi 

SAWA 

Father, what 's the matter with your face ? Have 
you sooted it? It looks as black as Satan's. 
yegor (quickly putting his hand to his face) 
Where ? 

SPERANSKY 

They are just making fun. There is nothing on 
your face, Mr. Tropinin. 

YEGOR 

The fool! Satan? You are Satan yourself, God 
forgive me! 
savva (making a terrible face and holding up his fingers 
m the shape of horns) I am the devil. 

YEGOR 

By God, you are the very devil himself! 
savva (glancing round the room) 

Is n't the devil going to get any dinner to-day ? I 
have had all I want of sinners. I am surfeited with 
them. I should like to have something more appe- 
tizing now. 

YEGOR 

Where were you knocking about at the regular din- 
ner hour? You '11 have to do without dinner now. 
savva 

I was with the children, father, with the children. 
They told me stories. They tell stories splendidly, 
and they were all about devils, witches, and the dead 
— your specialty, philosopher. They trembled with 
fear as they told them. That 's why we stayed so 
long. They were afraid to go home. Misha was the 
only one who was n't scared. He is a brick. He 's 
afraid of nothing. 



act m] SAVVA 93 

speransky (indifferently) 
What of it? He '11 die too. 

SAVVA 

My dear sir, don't be so funereal. You are like an 
undertakers' trust. Don't be forever croaking: 
" Die, die, die." Here, take my father, for instance. 
He '11 soon die ; but look at his face, how pleasant 
and cheerful it is. 

YEGOE 

Satan ! You 're the devil incarnate ! 

SPERANSKY 

But since we don't know — 

SAVVA 

My good friend, life is such an interesting business. 
You understand — life. Come, let 's have a game of 
jackstones to-morrow. I '11 provide the jacks, first- 
class jacks. (Enter Lipa, unnoticed) And then 
you should take gymnastic exercises. I mean it 
seriously. See how sunken your chest is. You '11 
choke of consumption in a year or so. The dea- 
coness will be glad, but it will create consternation 
among the dead. Seriously now. I have taken gym- 
nastic exercises. Look. (He lifts a heavy chair 
easily by the leg) There, you see! 

lipa (laughing aloud) 
Ha, ha, ha ! 

savva (putting the chair down, with a touch of em- 
barrassment) What's the matter? I didn't know 
you were here. 

LIPA 

You ought to join the circus as an acrobat. 
savva (glumly) 

Don't talk nonsense. 



94 SAVVA [act m 

LIPA 

Are you offended? 
savva {suddenly bursting into a good-natured, merry 
laugh ) Oh, a trifle ! All right, the circus, why not ? 
We '11 both join it, Speransky and I. Not as acro- 
bats though, but as clowns. How about it? Can 
you swallow hot junk? No? Well, I'll teach you. 
As for you, Lipa, won't you please let me have 
something to eat? I haven't had anything since 
this morning. 

YEGOR 

A regular Satan, a regular Satan ! Has n't had 
anything to eat ! Who has ever heard of eating at 
this hour of the night? Who has ever seen such a 
thing? 

SAVVA 

I '11 give you a chance to see it now. It 's very in- 
teresting. Wait, I '11 teach you also how to swallow 
hot junk. I '11 make you an expert. You '11 be a 
wonder. 

YEGOR 

Me? Fool, you can't teach me anything any more. 
Tony, give me the whiskey. 

TONY 

I won't. 

YEGOR 

The devil take you all! Brought up and fed a lot 

of— {Exit) 
lipa {handing him milk and dark bread) 

You seem to be happy to-night? 
savva 

Yes, I am, and you are happy too. 



act in] SAVVA 95 

lip a (laughmg) 
I am. 

SAVVA 

And I am happy. (He drinks the milk with avidity; 
the footsteps in the street grow louder, filing the 
room with their sound, and then die away again) 
What a treading and a tramping! 
up a {looking out of the window) 

The weather will be fine to-morrow. As long as I 
can remember the sun has always been shining 
brightly that way. 

SAVVA 

Hm, yes. That 's good. 

ILIPA 

And when they carry the ikon, it sparkles all over 
with the precious stones like fire. Only His face 
remains gloomy. All the gems don't give him any 
pleasure. He is sad and gloomy like the people's 
woe. 
savva (coolly) 

Hm, yes. Is that so? 

LIPA 

Just think how many tears have fallen upon Him, 
how many sighs and groans He has heard! That 
alone is enough to make the ikon holy for all who 
love and sympathize with the people and understand 
their soul. Why, they have nobody except Christ, 
all those unfortunate, miserable people. When I 
was a little girl, I was always waiting for a miracle — 

SAVVA 

It would be interesting. 

LIPA 

But now I understand that He Himself is waiting 



96 SAVVA [act in 

for a miracle from the people. He is waiting for 
the people to stop fighting, hating, and destroying 
each other. 

SAVVA 

Well, what of it? 

lipa (fixing her gaze upon him) 

Nothing. To-morrow you '11 see for yourself when 
they carry Him in the procession. Ypu '11 see 
what effect the mere consciousness that He is there 
with them has upon them, how it transforms them, 
what it does to them. The whole year round 
they live a dog's life, in filth, quarrelling with each 
other, suffering. On that day all the ugliness seems 
to vanish. It is an awful and a joyous day when 
suddenly you cast away from yourself all that is 
superfluous and when you feel so clearly your near- 
ness to all the unfortunates that are and ever were, 
and your nearness to God. 

savva (abruptly) 
What time is it? 

SPERANSKY 

The clock has just struck a quarter past eleven, if 
I am not mistaken. 

IIPA 

It 's still early. 

SAVVA 

Early for what? 
lipa 

Nothing. It 's still early, that 's all. 
savva (suspiciously) 

What do you mean? 
lipa (defiantly) 

What I mean. 



act in] SAVVA 97 

SAVVA 

Why did you say it 's Still early ? 

lipa (paling) 

Because it 's only a little after eleven ; but when it 's 
twelve — 

savva (jumpmg up and gomg to her quickly; -fixing 
her with his stare, he speaks slowly, pronouncing 
every word separately and distinctly) So? Is that 
it? When it's twelve — (He turns to Speransky 
without removing his eyes from Lipa) Listen, you 
go home. 

lipa (frightened) 

No, stay, Mr. Speransky. Please stay, I beg you. 

SAVVA 

If you don't go at once, I '11 throw you out of the 
window. Well ? 

SPERANSKY 

Excuse me, I never had the faintest idea — I was 
here with Mr. Anthony Tropinin. I am going in- 
stantly. Where is my hat? I put it here some- 
where — 

SAVVA 

There's your hat. (Throws it to him) 
lipa (feebly) 

Stay here awhile longer, Mr. Speransky. Sit down. 

SPERANSKY 

No, it 's late. I must go to bed. Good night, Miss 
Olympiada. Good night, Mr. Tropinin. Your 
brother is asleep already, I believe. You ought to 
take him to bed. I 'm going, I 'm going. (Exit) 
savva (speaking in a quiet, calm tone; his movements 
are heavy and slow, as if his body had suddenly 
stiffened) You know it? 



98 SAVVA [act hi 

LIPA 

I do. 

SAVVA 

You know all? 

LIPA 

All. 

SAVVA 

Did the monk tell you? 

IIPA 

He did. 

SAVVA 

Well? 
up a (drawing bach a little, and raising her hand for 
protection) Well, nothing will happen. There '11 
be no blowing up. You understand, Sawa, there '11 
be no explosion. 

[Pause. Footsteps are heard in the street, and in- 
distinct talking. Savva turns around. Stoopmg 
more than usually, he takes a turn around the room 
with peculiar slowness. 

SAVVA 

Well? 

LIPA 

Then you had better believe me, brother. Believe 
me. 

SAVVA 

Yes? 

LIPA 

Why that was — I don't know what it was — it 
was a piece of madness. Think it over. 

SAVVA 

Is it really true? 



act in] SAVVA 99 

UPA 

Yes, it 's true. It 's all over. You can't help it any 
more. There is nothing for you to do. 

SAVVA 

Tell me how it happened. (Sits down deliberately, 
his eyes fixed on Lipa) 

UPA 

I guessed a little something long ago — that day 
when you spoke to me — only I did n't know exactly 
what it was. And I saw the little machine too. I 
have another key to the trunk. 

SAVVA 

Evidently you have been cut out for a spy. Go on ! 

LIPA 

I am not afraid of insults. 

SAVVA 

Never mind, never mind — go on. 

UPA 

Then I saw that you had frequent talks with that 
fellow — Kondraty. Yesterday I looked in the 
trunk again, and the machine was n't there. So I 
understood. 

SAVVA 

You say you have another key? 

UPA 

Yes. The trunk is mine, you know. Well, and 
to-day — 

SAVVA 

When to-day? 

UPA 

Toward evening — I could n't find Kondraty any- 
where — I told him that I knew all. He got very 
much frightened and told me the rest. 



100 SAVVA [act in 

SAVVA 

A worthy pair — spy and traitor. 

LIPA 

If you are going to insult me, I won't say another 
word. 

SAVVA 

Never mind, never mind — go on. 

LIPA 

He was going to tell the Father Superior, but I 
did n't let him. I did n't want to ruin you. 

SAVVA 

No? 

LIPA 

When it was all over, I understood what a crazy 
scheme it was — so crazy that I simply can't think 
of it as real. It must have been a nightmare. It 's 
quite impossible. And I began to feel sorry for 
you — 

SAVVA 

Yes. 

LIPA 

I am sorry for you now too. (With tears) Sawa, 
darling, you are my brother. I have rocked your 
cradle. My dear angel, what idea is this you have 
got into your mind? Why, it 's terrible — it 's mad- 
ness. I understand how hard it must be for you to 
see how people live, and so you have resolved on a 
desperate deed. You have always been good and 
kind, and so I can understand you. Don't you think 
it 's hard for me to see this life? Don't you think 
I suffer myself? Give me your hand. 
sawa (pushing her hand away) 

He told you he would go to the Superior? 



act in] SAVVA 101 

UPA 

But I did n't let him. 

SAVVA 

Has he got the machine? 

UPA 

He '11 give it back to you to-morrow. He was afraid 
to give it to me. Savva dear, don't look at me like 
that. I know it 's unpleasant for you, but you have 
a lot of common sense. You can't help seeing that 
what you wanted to do was an absurdity, a piece of 
lunacy, a vagary that can come to one only in one's 
dreams at night. Don't I understand that life is 
hard? Am I not suffering from it myself? I under- 
stand even your comrades, the anarchists. It 's not 
right to kill anybody; but still I understand them. 
They kill the bad. 

SAVVA 

They are not my comrades. I have no comrades. 

LIPA 

Are n't you an anarchist? 

SAVVA 

No. 

LIPA 

What are you then? 
tony {raising his head) 

They are going, they are going. Do you hear? 
savva (quietly, but ominously) 

They are going. 

LIPA 

There, you see. Who is going? Think of it. It 's 
human misery that 's going. And you wanted to 
take away from them their last hope, their last con- 
solation. And to what purpose? In the name of 



102 SAVVA [act hi 

what? In the name of some wild, ghastly dream 
about a " naked earth." (Peers with terror into the 
darkness of the room) A naked earth! It 's terri- 
ble to think of it. A naked earth! How could 
a man, a human being, ever conceive such an idea? 
A naked earth! Nothing, nothing! Everything 
laid bare, everything annihilated. Everything that 
people worked for through all the years ; everything 
they have created with so much toil, with so much 
pain. Unhappy people! There is among you a 
man who says that all this must be burned, must 
be consumed with fire. 

SAVVA 

You remember my words to perfection. 

MPA 

You awakened me, Savva. When you told me all 
that, my eyes were suddenly opened, and I began 
to love everything. Do you understand? I began 
to love it all. These walls — formerly I did n't 
notice them ; now I am sorry for them — so sorry, 
I could cry. And the books and everything — each 
brick, each piece of wood to which man has applied 
his labor. Let 's admit that it 's poor stuff. Who 
says it 's good? But that 's why I love it — for its 
defects, its imperfections, its crooked lines, its un- 
fulfilled hopes. For the labor and the tears. And 
all who hear you talking, Savva, will feel as I do, and 
will begin to love all that is old and dear and human. 
savva 

I have nothing to do with you. 

LIPA 

Nothing to do with us ? With whom then have you 
to do? No, Sawa, you don't love anyone. You 



act m] SAVVA 103 

love only yourself and your dreams. He who loves 
men will not take away from them all they have. He 
will not regard his own wishes more than their lives. 
Destroy everything! Destroy Golgotha! Consider: 
(with terror) destroy Golgotha! The brightest, the 
most glorious hope that ever was on earth! All 
right, you don't believe in Christ. But if you have a 
single drop of nobility in your nature, you must re- 
spect and honor His noble memory. He was also 
unhappy. He was crucified — crucified, Savva. 
You are silent? Have you nothing to say? 
savva 
Nothing. 

LIPA 

I thought — I thought — if you succeeded in carry- 
ing out your plot — I thought I 'd kill you — that 
I 'd poison you like some noxious beast. 
savva 

And if I don't succeed — 

UPA 

You are still hoping? 
savva 

And if I don't succeed, I '11 kill you. 
i.ipa (advancing a step toward him) 

Kill me ! Kill me ! Give me a chance to suffer for 

the sake of Christ. For the sake of Christ and for 

the sake of the people. 
savva 

Yes, I '11 kill you. 

UPA 

Do you suppose I didn't think of it? Do you sup- 
pose I didn't think of it? Oh, Lord, to suffer for 
Thee ! Is there higher happiness than that ? 



104 SAVVA [act hi 

savva (with a contemptuous gesture, pointing at Lipa) 
And that 's a human being ! That 's one counted 
among the best ! That 's the kind in which they take 
pride ! Ah me, how poor you are in good people ! 

LIPA 

Insult ! Mock ! That 's the way it has always been. 
They have always heaped insults upon us before 
they killed us. 

SAVVA 

No, I don't mean to insult you. How can I insult 
you? You are simply a silly woman. There have 
been many such in the past. There are many such 
to-day. You are simply a foolish, insignificant 
creature. You are even innocent, like all insignifi- 
cant persons. And if I mean to kill you, there is 
no reason to be proud of it. Don't think you are an 
object specially worthy of my indignation. No, it 
would merely make matters a little easier for me. 
When I was chopping wood, and the axe in my 
raised arm struck the threshold instead of the log of 
wood, the jar was not so hard as if someone had 
arrested the motion of my arm. A raised hand must 
fall on something. 

LIPA 

And to think that this beast is my brother! 
savva 

Whose cradle you rocked and whose diapers you 
changed. Yes. But to me it does n't seem in the 
least strange that you are my sister, or that this 
bundle there is my brother. No, Tony! They are 
going. (Tony turns his head and stares stupidly 
without making any answer) And it does n't seem 
in the least strange to me that any insignificant chit 



act in] SAVVA 105 

and piece of nothingness calling itself my brother 
or my sister should go to the chemist's and buy a 
nickel's worth of arsenic on finding out who I am. 
You see, they have even attempted to poison me. 
The girl who left me tried to do it, but she lost her 
nerve. The point is that my sisters and brothers, 
among other things, have the characteristic of being 
cowards. 

LIPA 

I would have done it. 

SAVVA 

I don't doubt it. You are a little hysterical, and 
hysterical people are determined, unless they hap- 
pen to burst into tears first. 

LIPA 

I hysterical? All right, have it your way, have it 
your way. And who are you, Savva? 

SAVVA 

That does n't interest me. 

LIPA 

They are going, they are going. And they will find 
what they need. And that is the work of an hysteri- 
cal woman. Do you hear how many of them there 
are? And if they found out — if I were to open the 
window this minute and cry out : " This man here 
has tried to destroy your Christ " — If you want it, 
I '11 do it this instant. You need only say so. Shall 
I? (She takes a step toward the window m a frenzy 
of rage) Shall I? 

SAVVA 

Yes, it 's a good way of escaping the crown of thorns. 
Go ahead, shout. But look out, don't knock Tony 
down. 



106 SAVVA [act iii 

lipa (twming bach) 

I am sorry for you. You are beaten, and one 
does n't like to kick a man who is down. But remem- 
ber, remember, Savva, there are thousands, thou- 
sands of them coming in, and each one is your death ! 

savva (smiling) 

The tramp of death. 

LIPA 

Remember that each one of these would consider 
himself happy in killing you, in crushing you like a 
reptile. Each one of these is your death. Why, 
they beat a simple thief to death, a horse thief. 
What would they not do to you! You who wanted 
to steal their God. 
savva 

Quite true. That 's property too. 

LIPA 

You still have the brazenness to joke? Who gave 
you the right to do such a thing? Who gave you 
power over people? How dare you meddle with 
what to them is right? How dare you interfere 
with their life? 

SAVVA 

Who gave me the right? You gave it to me. Who 
gave me the power? You gave it to me. And I will 
cling to it with grim determination. Try to take it 
from me. You gave it to me — you with your mal- 
ice, your ignorance, your stupidity! You with your 
wretched impotence! Right! Power! They have 
turned the earth into a sewer, an outrage, an abode 
of slaves. They worry each other, they torture each 
other, and they ask : " Who dares to take us by the 
throat?" I! Do you understand? I! (Rises) 



act in] SAVVA 107 

LIPA 

You are a mere man like everybody else. 

SAVVA 

I am the avenger! Behind me follow in pursuit all 
those whom you stifled and crushed. Ah, they have 
been pursuing their wicked trade in all quietness, 
thinking that no one would discover them — think- 
ing that they would get away with it in the end. 
They have been lying, grovelling, and sneaking. 
They have been cringing and abusing themselves be- 
fore their altars and their impotent God, saying: 
" There is nothing to be afraid of — we are among 
ourselves." Then comes a man who says : " An 
accounting — I want an accounting ! What have 
you done? Out with it. Give me an accounting. 
Go on now! Don't try to cheat, for I know you. 
I demand an account for each and every single item. 
I will not condone a single drop of blood, I will not 
absolve you from a single tear." 

LIPA 

But to destroy all. Think of it! 

SAVVA 

What could you do with them? What would you 
do? Try to persuade the oxen to turn away from 
their bovine path? Catch each one by his horns and 
pull him away? Would you put on a frock-coat 
and read a lecture ? Have n't they had plenty to 
teach them? As if words and thoughts had any 
significance to them! Thought* — pure, unhappy 
thought! They have perverted it. They have 
taught it to cheat and defraud. They have made it 
a saleable commodity to be bought at auction in the 
market. No, sister, life is short and I am not going 



108 SAVVA [act in 

to waste it in arguments with oxen. The way to 
deal with them is by fire. That 's what they require 
— fire ! Let them remember long the day on which 
Savva Tropinin came to the earth! 

IJPA 

But what do you want? What do you want? 
savva 

What do I want? To free the earth, to free man- 
kind, to sweep the whole two-legged, chattering tribe 
out of existence. Man — the man of to-day — is 
wise. He has come to his senses. He is ripe for 
liberty. But the past eats away his soul like a canker. 
It imprisons him within the iron circle of things al- 
ready accomplished, within the iron circle of facts. 
I want to demolish the facts — that 's what I want 
to do: demolish all facts! To sweep away all the 
accumulated rubbish — literature, art, God. They 
have perverted mankind. They have immortalized 
stupidity. I want to do away with everything be- 
hind man, so that there is nothing to see when he 
looks back. I want to take him by the scruff of 
his neck and turn his face toward the future. 

LIPA 

Look here, Sawa. You are not immortal, and the 
two-legged animal has arms also. 
savva 

Do you think I don't know that every one of these 
stupid asses would be glad to kill me? But it won't 
happen, it won't happen. The time has come for 
my arrival, and I have arrived. Prepare yourselves. 
The time has come. You little insignificant thing 
there — you thought that by stealing one little 



act in] SAVVA 109 

possibility away from me you could rob me of all? 
Oh no — I am as rich as ever. 

LIPA 

I am your sister, but oh ! how glad I am that you are 
not immortal. 

SAVVA 

I see that you are a thoroughgoing anarchist. They 
too think that all is done if one man is killed. But 
if they kill me, hang me, break me on the wheel, 
there will come another purer than I. Where there 's 
an itch, there is always somebody to scratch it! 
Yes, sister! If not I, then someone else, and 
(clenching his fist) it will fare ill with your world. 

LIPA 

You are a terrible man. I thought you would be 
crushed by your failure, but you are like Satan. 
The fall has only made you blacker. 

SAVVA 

Yes, Lipa, only a sparrow can fly straight up from 
the ground. A large bird must descend to adjust 
and spread its wings for its upward flight. 

LIPA 

Aren't you sorry for the children? Think of the 
number of children that will have to perish. 

SAVVA 

What children? Oh yes, Misha. (Tenderly) Misha 
is a fine boy, that 's true. When he grows up, he 
will show you no mercy. Yes, the children — You 
are beginning to be afraid of them, and you have 
good reason for it. Never mind. It 's true that I 
love children. (With pride) And they love me. 
But they don't care for you. 



110 SAVVA [act in 

LIPA 

I don't play jackstones with them. 

SAVVA 

How silly you are, sister. But I like to play with 
them. 

IIPA 

Then go ahead and play. 

SAVVA 

Well, I will play. 

LIPA 

When you talk like that I have the feeling once 
more that it has all been a dream — all that we were 
saying just now. Is it really true that you want 
to kill me? 

SAVVA 

Yes, if it must be done. But perhaps it won't be 
necessary. 

LIPA 

You are joking! 

SAVVA 

Every one of you will have it that I am joking. 
You keep constantly telling me so. You seem to 
have utterly lost the sense for what is serious. 

LIPA 

No, it 's not a dream. They are going. 

SAVVA 

Yes, they are going. (Both listen) 

LIPA 

You still seem to believe. What do you believe? 

SAVVA 

I believe in my destiny. (The hour begins to strike 
m the belfry of the monastery) Twelve. 



a ct in] SAVVA 111 

lip a (counting) 

Seven. — eight — and to think that this is the hour 
when it should have happened — the very idea of 
it — (A muffled report as of a powerful explosion 
is heard) What was that? 

SAVVA 

Yes, what was it? 

[Both rush to the window, waking Tony, who moves 
his head sleepily. The tread of the footsteps in the 
street stops momentarily. Then all begin to run. 
Frightened cries are heard, weeping, loud, abrupt 
ejaculations of " What 's the matter? " " Oh, 
Lord! " " Fire, fire! " " No, something has fallen 
down! " " Let >s run! " The word " monastery " is 
frequently heard. 

TONY 

They are running! Where are they running to? 
Why is nobody here? 
pexagueya (entering the room, half dressed) 

Oh, Lord ! Oh, heavens ! Is it possible the monas- 
tery is on fire ! Good gracious ! Heavens ! And 
you here, you drunken sot ! You monster ! 

TONY 

Oho! They are running? Faces, mugs, eh? 
[The bell begins to toll the alarm. Then the strokes 
follow each other in more rapid succession; hasty, 
disquieting, uneven, they blend with the noise of the 
street and seem to creep through the window. 
pelagueya (crying) 

Good God, I don't know where to turn. 

[She runs out. The cries in the street grow louder. 

Someone yells in one prolonged note " Oh-oh-oh! " 



112 SAVVA [act in 

until the sound is drowned in the general noise , 
excitement, and ringing. 

lipa (moving away from the window, very pale, stupe- 
fied) What does it mean? It cannot be. It is 
impossible. Tony, Tony, get up. Tony, brother, 
what does it mean ? Tony ! 

tony (reassuringly) 

It 's nothing. They are all faces. 

savva (leaving the window, calm and stern, but also 
pale) Well, sister? 

upa (flinging herself about the room) 

I want to run with the rest. I '11 run. Where is 
my scarf? Where is my scarf? My God, My God! 
Where is my scarf? 

SAVVA 

Your scarf? There it is. But I won't give it to you. 
Sit down; you have nothing to do there. 

LIPA 

Let me have it. 
savva 

No, sit down, sit down. It 's too late now anyway. 

LIPA 

Too late? 

SAVVA 

Yes, too late. Don't you hear the noise the crowd 
is making and the way they are running and pushing? 

LIPA 

I '11 run, I '11 run. 

SAVVA 

Keep still — sit down. (Forces her to sit down) 
Tony, did you hear ? They 've exploded God. 
tony (looTcmg at Savva* s face in terror) 

Savva, don't make me laugh. Turn your face away. 



act ra] SAVVA 113 

[Sawa smiles and walks around the room with buoy- 
ant step, without his usual stoop, 
lip a (faintly) 

Sawa. 

SAVVA 

What is it? Speak louder. 

UPA 

Is it really true? 
sawa 

It 's true. 

LIPA 

And does n't He really exist ? 

SAVVA 

He does not. 

[Lipa begins to cry, at first low, then more and more 
loudly. The sound of the ringing bells and the noise 
of the crowd continue to swell. The rolling and 
clatter of wagons is also heard. 

SAVVA 

They are running. My, how they are running! 
(Lipa says something, but her words are inaudible) 
Louder. I can't hear you. My, how they are 
ringing. 
upa (aloud) 
Kill me, Sawa. 

SAVVA 

Why? You '11 die anyhow. 

LIPA 

I can't wait. I '11 kill myself. 

SAVVA 

Go ahead, kill yourself, kill yourself quick! 

[Lipa cries, burying her head in the armchair. 

Tony, his face distorted with fear, looks at Sawa, 



114 SAVVA [act in 

holding both his hands in readiness at his mouth. 
Loud peals of the bell. The disquieting sound blends 
with the loud tone of Savva' s speech. 

savva (shouting) 

Ah ! They are ringing. Ring on ! Ring on ! Soon 
the whole earth will ring. I hear! I hear! I see 
your cities burning! I see the flames. I hear the 
crackling. I see the houses tumbling on your heads. 
There is no place to run to. No refuge ! No refuge ! 
Fire everywhere. The churches are burning. The 
factories are burning. The boilers are bursting. An 
end to all slavish toil! 

tony (trembling with fear) 

Sawa, shut up, or I am going to laugh. 

savva (unheeding) 

The time has come! The time has come! Do you 
hear? The earth is casting you out. There is no 
place for you on earth. No ! He is coming ! I see 
him ! He is coming, the free man ! He is being born 
in the flames ! He himself is fire and resolution ! An 
end to the earth of slaves! 

TONY 

Sawa, shut up ! 
savva (bending down to Tony) 

Be prepared! He is coming! Do you hear his 
tread? He is coming! He is coming! 

CURTAIN 



THE FOURTH ACT 

Near the monastery. A broad road crosses the stage 
obliquely. On the far side of the road is the river, 
beyond which opens a wide prospect of the surrounding 
country — meadows, woods, and villages, with the 
crosses of the churches burning in the sun. In the dis- 
tance, at the right, where the mountain projects over a 
glistening bend of the river, is seen a part of the walls 
and the towers of the monastery. On the near side of 
the road is a hilly elevation covered with trampled 
grass. It is between five and six in the morning. The 
sun is out. The mist over the meadow is scattering 
slowly. 

Now and then a pilgrim or group of pilgrims may 
be seen hurrying by on their way to the monastery. 
Wagons carrying cripples and other monstrosities pass 
along the road. The noise of thousands may be heard 
from the monastery. The crowd is evidently moved by 
some joyous emotion. No individual voices are heard, 
but it is as if one could feel the smgmg of the blind, 
the cries, and the quick, glad snatches of conversation. 
The general effect is that of an elemental force. The 
noise decreases at regular intervals, like a wave, and 
then the singing of the blind becomes distinctly audible. 

Lipa and the Young Friar appear on the near side of 
the road. Lipa is sittmg on the hillock, dressed as she 
was the night before, but her head is covered with a 
white scarf carelessly tied. She is exhausted with joy 



116 SAVVA [act iv 

and almost dropping off to sleep. The Friar stands 
near her. On his face there is a troubled, vacant look. 
His movements are irresolute and aimless. He tries 
to smile, but his smile is twisted and pitiful. He is like 
a child who feels hurt without knowing the cause. 

lip a (untymg her scarf) 

Heavens, but this is splendid! I should like to die 

here. I can't get enough of it. Oh, it 's splendid, 

it 's splendid ! 
friar {looking around) 

Yes, it is splendid. But I can't stand it in there. 

I can't. They push and jostle and press and jam. 

They crushed the life out of one woman, absolutely 

crushed her. She had a child with her. I could n't 

look at it. I — I '11 go to the woods. 

LIPA 

How splendid ! Oh, Lord ! 
friar (looking dejectedly into the distance) 
I '11 go to the woods. 

LIPA 

And to think that only yesterday everything was 
just as usual. There was nothing of all this, no 
miracle, nothing. There was only Sawa — I can't 
believe it was yesterday. It seems to me a whole 
year has passed, a century. Oh, Lord! 
friar (his face clouding) 
Why did he do it? Why? 

UPA 

Can't you guess, Vassya? 
friar (waving his hand) 

I asked him to come to the woods with me. He 
should have come. 



act iv] SAVVA 117 

LIPA 

Did he tell you anything? 
friar (waving his hand) 

He should have come. Yes, he should have come. 

LIPA 

Ah, Vassya, Vassya, on account of your woods you 
missed one of the greatest events that ever happened 
— so great, in fact, that no man remembers the like 
of it. Ah, Vassya, how can you be speaking about 
anything else when right now, right here — right 
here — a miracle has happened. Do you under- 
stand? A miracle! The very mention of it fills one 
with awe. A miracle! Oh, God! Where were you, 
Vassya, when the explosion occurred? In the woods? 

FRIAR 

Yes, in the woods. I did n't hear the explosion. I 
only heard the ringing of the alarm bell. 

LIPA 

Well? 

FRIAR 

Nothing. I ran back and found the gate open and 
everybody crying like mad. And the ikon — 

LIPA 

Well, well? Did you see? 

FRIAR 

Yes, it was in the same place as before. And all 
around — (Growing animated) You know the 
iron grating over there — you know it, don't you? 
It was twisted like a rope. It 's funny to look at. 
It looks like something soft. I touched it, and it 
was n't soft, of course. What power ! It must have 
been something tremendous. 



118 SAVVA [act iv 

LIPA 

Well, and what about the ikon — the ikon? 

FRIAR 

What about it ? Nothing. It 's there in its place, 
and our people are praying to it. 

UPA 

Oh, Lord ! And the glass is whole too ? 

FRIAR 

The glass is whole too. 

UPA 

That 's what they told me, but I can't believe it yet. 
Forgive me, O Lord! Well, what are they doing? 
They are overjoyed, I suppose. 

FRIAR 

Yes, they are overjoyed. They act as if they were 
drunk. You can't make out what they are saying. 
A miracle, a miracle. Father Kirill keeps grunting 
like a pig " Oui, oui, oui." They put cold compresses 
on his head. He is fat, and he may pass out any 
moment. No, I can't stand it here. Come, let us go. 
I '11 take you home, Miss Olympiada. 

UPA 

No, Vassya dear, I '11 go in there. 

FRIAR 

Don't go, for heaven's sake. They '11 crush you, as 
they did that woman. They are all like drunk. 
They are carrying on and shouting like mad, with 
their eyes wide open. Listen. Can't you hear them? 

UPA 

You are still a boy, Vassya. You don't understand. 
Why, it 's a miracle. All their lives these people 
have been waiting for a miracle. Perhaps they had 
already begun to despair, and now — O Lord ! It 's 



act iv] SAVVA 119 

enough to make you mad with j oy. Yesterday, when 
I heard the cry of " a miracle," I thought : " No, 
it 's impossible. How could it happen? " But then 
I saw them crying, crossing themselves, and going 
down on their knees. And the ringing of the alarm 
bell stopped. 

FRIAR 

Oh, it was Afanassy who rang. He 's terribly 
strong, a regular giant. 

LIPA 

And the only thing heard was " A miracle, a mira- 
cle ! " No one spoke, and yet one kept hearing " A 
miracle, a miracle," as if the whole earth had become 
articulate. And even now, when I close my eyes, I 
hear " A miracle, a miracle! " (She closes her eyes 
and listens with an ecstatic smile) How splendid! 

FRIAR 

I am sorry for Mr. Sawa. Listen to the noise they 
are making. 

UPA 

Oh, don't talk about him. He '11 have to answer to 
God. Are they going to sing " Christ is arisen " 
instead of the usual hymn when they carry the ikon 
in the procession to-day? Vassya, do you hear? 
I am asking you a question. 

FRIAR 

Yes, they say that they are. Go home, Miss Olym- 
piada, won't you? 

UPA 

You can go, if you like. 

FRIAR 

But how can I leave you alone? They '11 come tear- 



120 SAVVA [act iv 

ing down here soon. For heaven's sake, there is Mr. 
Savva ! 

[Savva comes in hatless. His face is dark and 
stormy. There are lines under his eyes. He looks 
sideways with a steady stare. Frequently he glances 
around and seems to be listening to something. His 
gait is heavy, but quick. Noticing Lipa and the 
Friar, he turns and walks toward them. At his 
approach Lipa rises and turns away, 
savva 

Have you seen Kondraty? 

FRIAR 

No, he is in the monastery. 

[Savva remains standing in silence. The noise m 
the monastery has subsided and the sad, pitiful sing- 
ing of the blind is heard, 

FRIAR 

Mr. Sawa. 
savva 

Have you got a cigarette? 

FRIAR 

No, I don't smoke. (Plaintively) Come to the 
woods, Mr. Sawa. (Sawa remains immovable and 
silent) They '11 kill you, Mr. Tropinin. Come to 
the woods — please come! (Sawa looks fixedly at 
him, then silently turns and walks away) Mr. Tro- 
pinin, on my word you had better come with me to 
the woods. 

LIPA 

Leave him alone. He is like Cain. He can't find a 
place on the earth. Everybody is rejoicing, and 
he — 



act iv] SAVVA 121 

FRIAR 

His face is black. I am sorry for him. 

LIPA 

He is black all through. You had better keep away 
from him, Vassya. You don't know whom you are 
pitying. You are too young. I am his sister. I 
love him, but if he is killed, it will be a benefit to the 
whole world. You don't know what he wanted to 
do. The very thought of it is terrible. He is a 
madman, Vassya, a fearful lunatic. Or else he is — 
I don't know what. 
friar (waving his hand) 

You need n't tell me all that. I know. Of course 
I know. Don't I see? But I am sorry for him all the 
same, and I am disgusted too. Why did he do it? 
Why ? What stupid things people will do ! Oh, my ! 

LIPA 

I have only one hope — that he has understood at 
last. But if — 

FRIAR 

Well, what's the "if? 

UPA 

Oh, nothing, but — When he came here, it was as 
if a cloud had passed across the sun. 

FRIAR 

There you go also ! You should be happy — Why 

don't you rejoice? Don't be " iffing " and "but- 

ting." 

[A crowd begins to collect gradually. Two wagons 

with cripples stop on the road. A paralytic has 

been sitting for some time under a tree, crying and 

blowing his nose and wiping it with his sleeve. A 



122 SAVVA [act iv 

Man in Peasant Overcoat appears from the direction 
of the monastery, 

MAN IN OVERCOAT (officiously) 

We must get the cripples over to Him, to the ikon — 
we must get them over there. What 's the matter, 
women, are you asleep? Come on, move along. 
You '11 get your rest over there. What 's the matter 
with you, gran'pa? Why are n't you moving along? 
You ought to be there with your legs. Go on, old 
man, go on. 
paralytic {crying) 
I can't walk. 

MAN IN OVERCOAT (fussily) 

Oh, that 's it? That 's what 's the matter with you, 
eh? Come, I '11 give you a lift. Get up. 

PARALYTIC 

I can't. 

PASSER-BY 

Won't his legs work? What you want to do is to 
put him on his feet, and then he '11 hop away by 
himself. Is n't that right, old man? 

MAN IN OVERCOAT 

You take hold of him on that side, and I '11 take this 
one. Well, old man, get a move on you. You won't 
have to suffer long now. 

PASSER-BY 

There he goes, hop, hop. That 's right. Go it, go 
it, old man, and you won't get left. (He goes away) 
friar (smiling happily) 

They started him going all right. Clever, is n't it? 
He is galloping away at a great rate too. Good- 
bye, old gran'pa. 



act iv] SAVVA 123 

lip a (crying) 

Lord ! Lord ! 
friar (pained) 

What 's the matter? Don't cry, for pity's sake. 

What are you crying for? There is no cause for 

crying. 

LIPA 

No cause do you say, Vassya? I am crying for joy. 
Why aren't you glad, Vassya? Don't you believe 
in the miracle? 

FRIAR 

Yes, I do. But I can't bear to see all this. They 
all behave like drunks, and shout and make a noise. 
You can't understand what they are talking about. 
They crushed that woman. (With pain and dis- 
gust) They squeezed the life out of her. Oh, Lord, 
I simply can't! And the whole business. Father 
Kirill keeps grunting " Oui, oui, oui." (Laughs 
sadly) Why is he grunting? 
lipa (sternly) 

You learned that from Savva. 

FRIAR 

No, I did n't. Tell me, why is he grunting? (Laughs 
sadly) Why? 

[Yegor Tropinm enters dressed in holiday attire, his 
beard and hair combed. He looks extremely solemn 
and stem. 

YEGOR 

Why are you here, eh? And in that kind of dress? 
You 're a fine sight. 

LIPA 

I had no time to get dressed. 



124 SAVVA [act iv 

YEGOR 

But you found time to get here. What you have no 
business to do you have time for, but what you 
should do you have no time for. Go home and get 
dressed. It is n't proper. Who has ever seen such 
a thing? 

LIPA 

Oh, papa! 

YEGOR 

There is nothing to " oh " about. It 's all right, 
papa is papa, but you see I am properly dressed. 
I dressed and then went out. That 's the right way 
to do. Yes. It 's a pleasure to look at myself side- 
ways. I dressed as was proper, yes. On a day 
like this you ought to give a hand at the counter. 
Tony has disappeared, and Polya can't do all the 
work herself. You need n't be making such a face 
now. 
merchant (passing by) 

Congratulate you on the miracle, Mr. Tropinin! 

YEGOR 

Thank you, brother, the same to you. Wait, I '11 go 
with you. You are a goose, Olympiada. You have 
always been a goose, and you have remained a goose 
to this day. 

MERCHANT 

You '11 have a fine trade now. 

YEGOR 

If it please the Lord! Why are you so late? Have 
you been sleeping? You keep sleeping, all of you, 
all the time. (They go out) 

FRIAR 

I scattered all the fireflies I caught on the road when 



act iv] SAVVA 125 

I ran last night. And now the crowd has trampled 
them down. I wish I had left them in the woods. 
Listen to the way they are shouting. I wonder 
what 's the matter. They must have squeezed some- 
body to death again. 
lipa (closing her eyes) 

When you talk, Vassya, your words seem to pass 
by me. I hear and I don't hear. I think I should 
like to stay this way all my life without moving from 
the spot. I should like to remain forever with my 
eyes shut, listening to what is going on within me. 
Oh, Lord! What happiness! Do you understand, 
Vassya? 

FRIAR 

Yes, I understand. 

LIPA 

No. Do you understand what it is that has hap- 
pened to-day ? Why, it means that God has said — 
God Himself has said : " Wait and do not fear. 
You are miserable. Never mind, it 's nothing, it 's 
only temporary. You must wait. Nothing has to 
be destroyed. You must work and wait." Oh, it 
will come, Vassya, it will come. I feel it now, I 
know it. 

FRIAR 

What will come? 

LIPA 

Life, Vassya, real life will come. Oh, mercy ! I still 
feel like crying for joy. Don't be afraid. 
\_Speransky and Tony enter, the latter very gloomy, 
glancing sideways and sighing. In a queer way he 
sometimes recalls Savva by his gait and look. 



126 SAWA [act rv 

SPERANSKY 

Good morning, Miss Olympiada. Good morning, 
Vassya. What an extraordinary event, if we are to 
believe what people say. 

TATA 

Believe, Mr. Speransky, believe. 

SPERANSKY 

You judge in a very simple offhand manner. If, 
however, you take into consideration the fact that 
it is highly probable that nothing exists, that even 
we ourselves do not exist — 

TONY 

Keep quiet. 

SPERANSKY 

Why? There is no miracle for me, Miss Olympiada. 
If at this moment, for example, everything on this 
earth were suddenly to be suspended in the air, I 
should n't regard it as a miracle. 

UPA 

As what then ? You 're a very peculiar man. 

SPERANSKY 

I should look on it simply as a change. It was first 
one thing and then it became another. If you wish, 
I '11 admit that for me the very fact that things are 
as they are is in itself a miracle. All are glad and 
rej oicing, but I sit and think : " Time is blinking 
his eyes now, and there is a change. The old peo- 
ple are dead, and in their places appear the young. 
And they are apparently glad and rejoicing too." 

TONY 

Where is Sawa? 

UPA 

Why do you want him? 



act iv] SAVVA 127 

SPERANSKY 

He has been looking for Mr. Sawa ever so long. 
We have looked everywhere, but have not been able 
to find him. 

FRIAR 

He was here awhile ago. 

TONY 

Where did he go? 

FRIAR 

To the monastery, I think. 
tony (pulling Speransky) 
Come. 

SPERANSKIY 

Good-bye, Miss Olympiada. How they are shouting 
over there! The time will come when they will all 
be silent. (They go off) 
friar (disturbed) 

Why are they looking for Mr. Sawa? 

LIPA 

I don't know. 

FRIAR 

I don't like that seminarist. Always nosing about 
where there are dead around. What does he want? 
He is a dreadfully disagreeable fellow. Never misses 
a funeral. He smells death miles away. 

LIPA 

He is an unhappy creature. 

FRIAR 

Unhappy? Why is he unhappy? Even the dogs in 
the village are afraid of him. You don't believe it? 
It 's so, upon my word ! They bark at him, and 
then slink away behind the gate. 



128 SAVVA [act iv 

LIPA 

What does all this matter anyway, Vassya? It 's 
of no account, mere trifles. To-day they are going 
to sing : " Christ is arisen from the dead. Death 
has conquered death." Do you understand? 
" Death has conquered death." 

FRIAR 

I understand. I understand. But why does he say 
" All will become silent " and that sort of stuff? 
I don't like it, I don't like it. They have crushed 
a woman to death — perhaps others too. (Shaking 
his head) I don't like it. In the woods everything 
is so quiet and nice, and here — I 'd prefer that no 
miracle had happened. I 'd rather have things nice 
and pleasant. What 's the use of it? What 's the 
use of the miracle? There is no need of a miracle. 

LIPA 

What are you talking about, Vassya? 

FRIAR 

Sawa Tropinin ! The idea. It should n't have been 
done. There was no need of it. He said he 'd go 
with me to the woods and then — I liked him a lot, 
but now I am afraid of him. Why did he do it? 
Why? My, what a fearful crowd! More cripples 
coming, and more and more. 

UPA 

What is the matter, Vassya? What are you so 
excited about? 

FRIAR 

Everything was so nice and fine. Oh, my! Why 
don't you go home, Miss Olympiada? Do go, please. 
You have seen all there is to be seen. It 's enough. 
What can you gain by staying here ? Come, I '11 



act it] SAVVA 129 

go with you. Oh, God, there comes Mr. Savva 
again ! 

LIPA 

Where? 

FRIAR 

There he is. For heaven's sake! 
savva (enters and sits down) 
Has Kondraty been here? 

FRIAR 

No, Mr. Savva. 

[Pause. Again the piteous singing of the blind can 

be heard. 

SAVVA 

Got a cigarette, Vassya? 

FRIAR 

No, I have n't. I don't smoke, 
rip a (harshly) 

What are you waiting for, Sawa? Go away. You 
are not wanted here. Look at yourself. You are a 
terrible sight. Your face is black. 

SAVVA 

I did n't sleep all last night. That 's why it 's black. 

UPA 

What are you waiting for? 

SAVVA 

For an explanation. 

UPA 

You don't believe in the miracle? 
savva (smiling) 

Vassya, do you believe in the miracle? 

FRIAR 

Yes, of course I do, Mr. Savva. 



130 SAVVA [act rv 

SAVVA 

Wait. You '11 find out. What are they doing down 
there? They have already crushed three to death. 

FRIAR 

Three? 

SAVVA 

And they '11 kill many more. And they all keep 
shouting : " A miracle, a miracle ! " At last it has 
come. They have got what they have been waiting 
for at last. 

LIPA 

And it 's you, Sawa, who gave them the miracle. 
It 's you who are to be thanked for it. 
sawa {gloomily) 

Well, Vassya, the monks are glad, aren't they? 
Tell me, don't be afraid. 

FRIAR 

They are very glad, Mr. Sawa. They are crying. 
sawa (looking at him) 

Crying? Why are they crying? 

FRIAR 

I don't know. I suppose for joy. Father Kirill 
grunts like a pig " Oui, oui, oui." They all act as 
if they were drunk. 
sawa (rising, agitated) 

As if they were drunk? What does that mean? 
Perhaps they really are drunk. 

FRIAR 

Oh no, Mr. Tropinin. It 's all on account of the 
miracle. They are mad with joy. Father Kirill 
keeps grunting " Oui, oui, oui." He vows that if 



act iv] SAVVA 131 

he remains alive he '11 swear off liquor and live as a 
hermit. 
savva {eyeing him) 

Well? 

FRIAR 

That 's all. 

SAVVA 

What do they say? 

FRIAR 

They say they '11 do penance and stop sinning. They 

hug each other and behave as if they were drunk. 
savva {walkmg up and down, stroking his forehead 

with his hand) Yes, hm. So that 's the way ! Yes. 
up a {following him with her eyes) 

Go away from here, Savva. You are not wanted 

here. 

SAVVA 

What? 
lipa {reluctantly) 

They may recognize you and then — Why don't 
you put on a hat at least? You look like — 

FRIAR 

Yes, go — please go — dear Mr. Sawa. Why, they 

— why, they might kill you! 
savva {in a sudden outburst of anger) 

Leave me alone ! No one will kill me. It 's bosh ! 

{Pause. Sits down) I wish I could get a drink of 

water or something. I am very thirsty. Is n't there 

a pool or something of the kind around here? 
friar {looking in terror at Savva) 

No, it 's all dried up. 
sawa {frowning) 

Sorry. 



132 SAVVA [act iv 

FRIAR 

Oh, that woman there has a jug of water. (Glee- 
fully) I '11 go and ask her for it. (Runs) 

LIPA 

You ought not to have that water. Go away from 
here, Savva, go away. Look what gladness there is 
all around you. Everybody, everything rejoices. 
The earth is glad. The sun is glad. You are the 
only one who is not — you alone. I still can't forget 
that you are my brother. Go. But wherever you 
go, bear with you the memory of this day always. 
Remember that the same fate awaits you every- 
where. The earth will not surrender her God to 
you; the people will not surrender to you that 
whereby they live and breathe. Yesterday I still 
feared you. To-day I regard you with pity. You 
are pitiful, Sawa! Go! Why are you laughing? 
savva (smiling) 

Is n't it a little premature, sister, for you to be de- 
livering my funeral oration? 

LIPA 

Are n't you frightened yet ? 

SAVVA 

Why should I be frightened? At your tricks and 
jugglery? I am used to the lies and frauds, Lipa. 
You can't frighten me with them. I still have a 
lot of stupid confidence left. It will help. It will 
come in handy the next time. 

LIPA 

Sawa ! 
friar (bringing the jug of mater) 

I had the hardest time getting it from her. She was 



act iv] SAVVA 133 

like flint. She said she needed it herself. She was 

a hard case. 
savya 

Thank you, boy. (Drinks with avidity) Fine! 

(Drinks the last drop) That was fine water. Take 

it back and tell the woman her water was fine and 

that there is none like it in all the world. 
friar (merrily) 

All right, I '11 tell her. (Goes off) 
lip a (in a whisper) 

You are the enemy of the human race. 
savva (smacking his lips) 

Very well, very well. Just wait. We '11 hear what 

Kondraty has to say. The blackguard ! I '11 give it 

to him ! 
upa (with emphasis, but still m a whisper as before) 

You are the enemy of the human race ! You are the 

enemy of the human race ! 

SAVVA 

Louder ! No one hears you. It 's a spicy bit of 
information. 

LIPA 

Go away from here. 
[The Friar returns. 

savva (looking into the distance with narrowed eyes) 
It 's nice out there, is n't it, Vassya? Whose woods 
are they? Vazykin's? Have I ever been there with 
you? 

friar (gleefully) 

Yes, they 're Vazykin's. I was there yesterday, Mr. 
Savva. I caught a whole handful of fireflies, but as 
I ran — (He grows sorrowful at the memory) 
My, how they are shouting! What are they up to 



134 SAVVA [act iv 

anyway? Did you say they killed three, Mr. Tro- 

pinin? Was that what you said? 
savva (coolly) 

Yes, three. 
friar 

What are they pushing and jostling for anyhow? 

He '11 be carried in the procession and they can all 

see Him. 

SAVVA 

When will they carry Him? 
friar (looking up) 
It won't be long now. 

I.IPA 

They '11 sing " Christ is Arisen " to-day. 
savva (smiling) 

Is that so ? Did n't I arrange a feast-day for them 

though ? 

[Tony and Speransky appear. 

FRIAR 

Are these fellows here too? For goodness' sake, 
what do they want? What are they looking for? 
I don't like it. Mr. Tropinin, come ; let 's go away 
from here. 

SAVVA 

Why? 

FRIAR 

They are coming this way, Speransky — 

SAVVA 

Aha ! The " Tramp of Death " is approaching. 
[Lipa looks at him m astonishment. The Friar 
presses his hand to his bosom in a state of agitation. 
friar (plamt'wely) 

What are you saying? Oh, God! Why did you say 



act iv] SAVVA 135 

that? You mustn't do it. This is no tramp of 
death, nothing of the kind. 

SAWA 

It 's a kind of story he has written — Good morn- 
ing, good morning. What can I do for you? 

SPERANSKIY 

Mr. Anthony Tropinin is looking for you, Mr. 
Sawa. 

SAVVA 

What do you want? 

tony {very sadly, hidmg a little behind Speransky) 
Nothing. 

friar (listening attentively and then speaking with 
passion) What are you running around for then, 
and whom are you hunting? If you want nothing, 
do nothing. But you are running around and hunt- 
ing, hunting. It is n't nice, I tell you ! 

tony (after a passing glance at the Friar he fixes his 
gaze on Sawa) Sawa. 

sawa (irritated) 
What do you want? 

[Tony makes no answer, but hides behind Speran- 
skiy, looking over his shoulder. In the course of 
what follows he keeps steadily looking at Sawa. 
His lips and eyebrows twitch, and at times he presses 
both his hands hard against his mouth. 

SPERANSKY 

The crowd is in a state of great agitation, Miss 
Olympiada. They broke the old gate opening on the 
other side of the woods and rushed in. The Father 
Superior came out and asked them to behave. They 
shout so you can't hear anything at all. Many are 
rolling on the ground in convulsions. I suppose 



136 SAVVA [act iv 

they are sick. It 's very strange, quite unusual in 
fact. 

LIPA 

Will they carry Him out soon? I must go. (Rises) 

SPERANSKIY 

They say it '11 be soon now. One wagon with crip- 
ples in it was upset — cripples without hands or 
feet. They are lying on the ground crying. It 's 
all so strange. 

FRIAR 

What? Did you see it yourself? 
[Kondraty appears on the road coming from the 
monastery. He is walkmg in the company of two 
pilgrims, who are listening attentively to him. 
Catching sight of Sawa, Kondraty says something 
to his companions, who remam standing where they 
are while he goes up to Sawa. 

SAVVA 

Aha! 
kondraty (clean, spruce, beaming) 

Good morning, Miss Olympiada. Good morning to 
you too, Mr. Sawa Tropinin. 

SAVVA 

Good morning, good morning. You have come after 
all? You were not afraid? 
kondraty (calmly) 

Why should I be afraid? You won't kill me, I sup- 
pose, and if you should, it would be sweet to die at 
your hands. 

SAVVA 

What bravery! And how clean you are! You are 
positively painful to look at. You did n't make 
quite so smart an appearance when you lay wallow- 



act iv] SAVVA 137 

ing in the puddle. You were a little the worse for 
the mud, and so on. 
kondraty (shrugging his shoulders and speaking with 
dignity) It 's no use recalling that incident now. 
It 's quite out of place. Mr. Tropinin, it 's time for 
you to have done with your spite and malice, high 
time. 

SAVVA 

Well? 

KONDRATY 

That's all. There is no "well" about it. You 
have had your shot. Be satisfied. 

SAVVA 

Are congratulations upon the miracle in order? 

KONDRATY 

Yes, Mr. Tropinin, upon the miracle — the miracle, 
indeed. (He weeps with a bland air, wiping his face 
with his handkerchief) God granted that I should 
live to see the day. 
savva (rising and advancing a step toward the monk; 
peremptorily) Enough now! Stop your hocus- 
pocus. You have played your trick. Now stop, or 
I '11 knock all that jugglery out of you. Do you 
hear? 

FRIAR 

Mr. Sawa, good Mr. Savva, please don't. 
kondraty (drawing back a little) 

Not so loud, not so loud. We are not in the forest 

where you can kill rich merchants and get away with 

it. There are people here. 
savva (lowering his voice) 

Well, tell me all about it. Come on. 



138 SAVVA [act iv 

KONDRATY 

What 's the use of going away ? I can tell you 
everything right here. I have no secrets. It 's you 
who have secrets. I am all here. 

SAVVA 

You '11 lie if you tell it here. 
kondraty (heatedly, with tears) 

Shame, Mr. Tropinin! Shame! Shame! Why do 

you insult me? Is it because you saw me lying in 

the puddle ? It 's a sin, a shame ! 
savva (perplexed) 

What's the matter with you? 

KONDRATY 

Do you think I am going to lie on a day like this ? 
Miss Olympiada, you at least ought to know — 
Good God! Good God! Why, Christ has just 
arisen! Do you understand? 

[The crowd increases. Some cast glances at the 
group with the two monks before they pass on. 

up a (excitedly) 

Father Kondraty — 

kondraty (beating his breast) 

Do you understand? I have lived all my life like a 
scoundrel, so why, why did God do this with me? 
Do you understand, Miss Olympiada? Do you un- 
derstand? Eh? 

savva (perplexed) 

Talk sense. Stop blubbering. 

kondraty (waving his hand) 

I am not angry with you. I bear you no grudge. 
Who are you that I should bear any resentment 
against you? 



act iv] SAVVA 139 

SAVVA 

Talk sense. 

KONDRATY 

I '11 tell Miss Olympiada. I won't speak to you. 
You knew me as a drunkard, Miss Olympiada, a 
mean, worthless creature. Now listen. ( To Spercm- 
sky) And you, young man, may listen also. It 
will teach you a lesson. It will show you how God 
works His will unseen. 

LIPA 

I see, Father Kondraty. Forgive me. 

KONDRATY 

God will forgive you. Who am I to forgive you? 
So that 's the way it was, Miss Olympiada. I fol- 
lowed your advice and went to the Father Superior 
with the infernal machine. It was indeed an infernal 
machine! And I told him everything, just the way 
I felt, with a perfect candor and purity of heart. 

speransky {guessing) 

Is that how it happened? What a remarkable event ! 

friar {quietly) 

Keep quiet. What are you butting in for? 

KONDRATY 

Ye-es. The Father Superior turned pale. " You 
scamp," he said, " do you know with whom you 
have had dealings? " " I do," I said, trembling all 
over. Well, they called together the whole brother- 
hood and discussed the matter in secret. And then 
the Father Superior said to me : " It 's this way, 
Kondraty," he said. " God has chosen you as the 
instrument of His sacred will. Yes. {Weeps) God 
has chosen you as the instrument — " 



140 SAVVA [act iv 

LIPA 

Well? Go on. 

KOXDRATY 

Ye-es, hm. " Go," he said, " and put down the ma- 
chine as you were told to do, and set it going accord- 
ing to the directions. Carry out the devil's plot in 
full. I and the other brothers will sing a hymn 
quietly as we carry the ikon away. Yes, that 's what 
we '11 do. We '11 carry the ikon away. And thus 
the devil will be made a fool of." 

SAVVA 

Ah! 
lipa (astonished) 

But, Father Kondraty, how can that be? 
[Sawa laughs heartily. 

KONDRATY 

Patience, patience, Miss Olympiada. " And when," 
said the Father Superior, " the devil's plot shall have 
been carried out, then we '11 put the ikon — the dear, 
precious ikon — back in His place." Well, I won't 
attempt to describe the scene that took place when 
we carried the ikon away. It 's beyond my power. 
The brothers sobbed and wept. Not one of them 
was able to sing. The little candles burned with tiny 
little flames. And then when we carried Him out 
to the gate, and when we began to think and remem- 
bered — who is now in His sacred place — we lay 
around the ikon, our faces on the ground, and cried 
and wept bitter, bitter tears, tears of pity and con- 
trition. " O Thou, our own, our precious idol, have 
mercy on us, return to Thy place." (Lipa cries; 
the Friar wipes his eyes with his fist) And then — 
bang! went the machine, and the sulphurous smoke 



act iv] SAWA 141 

spread all around so that it was impossible to 
breathe. (In a whisper) And then many beheld the 
devil in the smoke, and they were so terrified that 
they lost consciousness. It was horrible ! And then, 
as we carried Him back, all of one accord, as though 
we had agreed beforehand, began to sing " Christ 
is arisen." That 's how it happened. 

SAWA 

You hear, Lipa? But what 's the matter with you? 
Why are you all crying? 

FRIAR 

It makes one feel so sorry, Mr. Sana. 

SAWA 

Why, they fooled you, they played a trick on you. 
Or else you are all lying, lying with your tears. 
\Kondraty makes a gesture of indifference. 
lipa (shaking her head, weeping) 

No, Savva, you don't understand. Oh, Lord! Oh, 
Lord! 

KONDRATY 

You have no God, that 's the reason you don't under- 
stand. You have only reason, and pride, and malice. 
That 's why you don't understand. Ah, Mr. Sawa, 
you wanted to ruin me too. And I tell you as a 
Christian — it would have been better if you had 
never been born. 

SAWA 

Oh, fiddlesticks ! Whom do you think you can hood- 
wink? Do you think I have turned blind? 
koxdraty (turning away with a wave of his hand) 
You can shout as much as you like. 

FRIAR 

Air. Savva, you must n't shout, you must n't. We 



142 SAVVA [act iv 

have already attracted the attention of the crowd. 
They are looking at us. 

savva (laying his hand on Kondraty 9 s shoulder and 
speaking in a low voice) Look here, I understand. 
Of course, in the presence of people — but you 
understand, don't you, Kondraty? You are a clever 
man, a very bright man. You understand that all 
this is nonsense. Just consider, brother, consider 
a moment. Didn't they carry the ikon away? 
Then where is the miracle? 

kondraty (twisting himself free from Sawa's grasp, 
shaking his head and speaking aloud) Then you 
don't understand? No, you don't understand. What 
of it? 

savva (ma whisper) 

Listen, remember our talk. 

KONDRATY (aloud) 

Don't whisper to me. I have nothing to hide from 
anybody. How do you think miracles happen any- 
how? Say, you are a smart man too, and yet you 
can't comprehend a simple matter like this. Why, 
it 's all your work, all your doing, is n't it ? You 
gave me the machine. You planned the explosion. 
Your orders have been carried out. And yet the 
ikon is untouched ; it 's whole. That 's all I have 
to say. It 's the plain, simple statement of fact. 
Yet you come here with your arguments and try to 
get away from those facts by mere reasoning. 
lipa (looking around in a paroxysm of excitement) 
How simple it is ! And how terrible ! O Lord, O 
Lord! And to think that it was I who did it, I, 
with my own hands ! O my God! (She falls on her 
knees, turnmg her eyes toward heaven) 



act iv] SAVVA 143 

savva (looking at her savagely, then at Kondraty) 

Well! 
kondraty (drawing bach in fright) 

Why are you staying here ? Why have n't you left 

already ? 
savva (shouting) 

What a fool you are! 

kondraty (paling) 

Lower, lower, I say. Don't talk like that, or I '11 

shout. 
savva (turning quickly toward Speransky) 

What are you staring at with your mouth wide 

open? You are a philosopher. You, you are a 

philosopher. Can you understand the stupidity of 

these people? They think it 's a miracle. (Laughs) 

They think it 's a miracle. 
speransky (stepping back) 

Excuse me, Mr. Tropinin, but from their point of 

view — I don't know. 

SAVVA 

You don't know? 

SPERANSKY 

Who does know? (Cries out, in despair) The dead 
alone, Mr. Savva, the dead alone. 

KONDRATY 

Ah ! You are cornered — Antichrist ! 
lipa (in terror) 
Antichrist ? 

[Hearing the cry, the two pilgrims who were with 
Kondraty approach. They are gradually joined by 
others, among whom is the Man in Peasant Overcoat. 

FIRST PILGRIM 

What is it, father? Has he revealed himself? 



IU SAVVA [act iv 

KONDRATY 

Look at him, look at him! 

SAVVA 

Vassya, you dear, fine boy — Vassya, what is the 
matter with them? Hear what they are saying. 
Hear the nonsense they are talking. You good, 
nice boy! 
friar (drawing back) 

Mr. Sawa, don't, don't. Go away from here. Leave 
this place. 

SAVVA 

Vassya, Vassya, you, you — 
friar (crying) 

But I don't know. I don't know anything. I am 

afraid. 
lipa (ecstatically) 

Antichrist ! Antichrist ! 

SECOND PILGRIM 

Hear ! Hear ! 

KONDRATY 

Ah! You are cornered. Here is your money — 
take it! It has burned holes in my pockets, your 
accursed money. Here, take it, take it, you brood 
of Antichrist! (Throws the money at him) 
sawa (raising his fist as if to deal a blow) I '11 teach 
you — 

FIRST PILGRIM 

Boys, don't be afraid. Here boys, here ! 
sawa (pressing his head between his hands) 
Oh, it hurts, it hurts ! Darkness is closing in. 

KONDRATY 

It 's beginning to get you, is it ? That 's right, 
that 's right. 



act iv] SAVVA 145 

IIPA 

Antichrist ! 

tony (shouting) 
Savva, Sawa! 

savva (sinking for a moment into profound, terrible 
meditation; then he straightens himself suddenly 
and seems to grow in stature; he cries out with a 
wild joy as if speaking above the heads of all to 
reach somebody far off) I am right! Therefore I 
am right! It was all necessary! All! All! (He 
stands as if petrified in an upward-striving posture) 

KONDRATY 

Boys, it 's he who did it. That 's the fellow. 

man in overcoat (pushing himself forward, offi- 
ciously) What's the matter, boys? Aha! He is 
caught! Which one? This one? Come on with 
you! (Takes hold of Savva by the sleeve) 

savva (shaking him off with such violence that the 
man falls down) Get away from me! 

VOICES 

Don't let him go ! 

KONDRATY 

Hold him! 
friar (crying) 

Run, Mr. Savva, run. 

[During the following scene Lipa prays. Speransky 
looks on with keen curiosity, while Tony stares over 
his shoulder. All the voices become blended into one 
raging, frightened, savage roar. 

CROWD 

Get at him from that side ! Yes, go yourself ! You 
have a stick ! Oh, hang it, there is n't a single stone 
around ! Hold him, hold him, he '11 escape ! 



146 SAVVA [act iv 

man in overcoat (getting to his feet agam and assum- 
ing the leadership) Surround him, boys, surround 
him ! Block the way to the river ! Don't let him run 
away! Well, now, get a move on you! 

CROWD 

Go yourself — I 've tried once ! Push that way ! 

Get hold of him ! Grab him ! Aha ! 
kondraty (shoutvng at the top of his voice) 

Beat him! Beat the Antichrist! Beat him! 
savva (the danger brmgs him back to his senses. He 

looks around, takes in the path to the river with a 

quick glance, and gray as dust with rage, he makes 

for it with a single abrupt movement) Get out of 

the way, you monsters! 

CROWD 

He is getting away! He is getting away! Hold 
him! Boys, he is getting away! He is getting 
away! 

[As Savva advances, the crowd falls back vrt a semi- 
circle, tumbling against one another. Kondraty be- 
gins to make the sign of the cross at Sawa and con- 
tinues to do so throughout the remaining scene. 
savva (advancing) 

Get out of the way ! Get out of the way ! So you 're 
scared now, you dogs ? You 've pulled in your tails ? 
Get out of the way ! Go on ! 

CROWD 

He is getting away. 

[Kvng Herod issues from the crowd, and plants him- 
self in front of Sawa so as to obstruct his way. 
There is a terrible look on his face. Sawa comes 
up close to him and stops. 



act iv] SAVVA 147 

SAVVA 

Well? 

[A brief pause. The conversation is carried on in 

a sort of undertone, almost calmly. 

KING HEROD 

Is that you? 

SAVVA 

Is that you? Let me go. 

KING HEROD 

A man ? 

SAVVA 

Yes, let me go. 

KING HEROD 

Did you want the Saviour? Christ? 

SAVVA 

They fooled you. 

KING HEROD 

People may fool, Christ never. What 's your name? 

SAVVA 

Savva. Get out of my way, I tell you. 

KING HEROD 

Surrender Thy servant Savva. Hold! 
[He strikes a heavy, swingmg blow with his left fist 
whence Sawa did not expect an attack. Sawa sinks 
on one knee. The crowd rushes at him and tramples 
him down. 

CROWD 

Beat him ! Aha ! So ! He is turning back ! Beat 
him! 

FRIAR 

What does this mean? Oh! Oh! Oh! (He clutches 
his head with both hands, cries, and runs away) 



148 SAVVA [act iv 

savva {fighting desperately, he appears for a moment 
looking fierce and terrible) Let go — Ho-o-o ! 
{He sinks back again) 

CItOWD 

That 's the way. One, two — Ah ! Strike ! Got 
him? Not yet! Got him? What are you waiting 
for? Strike! Done! 

A VOICE 

He 's still moving. 

CROWD 

Strike! 

MAN IN OVEECOAT 

Peter, got a knife? Finish him with your knife. Cut 
his throat. 

PETER 

No, I 'd rather do it with my heel. One ! Two ! 
kondraty (cursing him) 

Lord Jesus Christ! Lord Jesus Christ! 

[Loud cries are heard from the background: 

" They are carrying Hi/ml They are carrying 

Him! " The mob begms to disperse and thins out 

quickly. 

CROWD 

They are carrying Him ! Yes, it 's enough. It 's 
done. No, let me at him — once more. There ! I 
gave him one good one in his face. They are carry- 
ing Him ! They are carrying Him ! 

KING HEROD 

Enough, enough. A grand feast for you, you 
accursed beasts! 

CROWD 

I tell you, they are carrying Him ! Lie there, you ! 
Oh my, am I going to be late? Enough now. Are 



act iv] SAVVA 149 

you sorry for him, eh? Is it your head? One more! 
Come on ! 

[They run away so that Sawa's mangled body be- 
comes visible. 

MAN IN OVERCOAT 

It ought to be taken away from here. It is n't right 
to leave it here on the road. It 's dirty. Boys ! 
Say, boys ! 

[He goes off following the rest, but is met by the 
procession pouring in upon the stage. There is a 
great din and humming of talk. Speransky and 
Tony approach the body cautiously, bend over it on 
their knees, one on each side, and stare at it eagerly. 

SPERANSKY 

Dead! His eyes are gone. 

TONY 

Shut up ! ( He bursts into a groaning laugh, press- 
ing his hands hard to his mouth) 

SPERANSKY 

But his face is calm. Look, Mr. Anthony. It 's 
because now he knows the truth. 

TONY 

Shut up! (Bursts out laughing) What a funny 
face he has ! 

[He laughs behind his hand. Then his laugh bursts 
through his fingers, so to speak, grows in intensity, 
becomes irresistible, and passes into a whine. The 
crowd begins to fill the stage, concealing the body, 
Speransky, and Tony. The bells are rung in the 
monastery as at Easter, and at the same time the 
singing of thousands of voices is heard. 
crowd 

" Christ is risen from the dead. He has conquered 



150 SAVVA [act iv 

death with death and given life to those lain in their 
graves. Christ — " 

lip a (flinging herself into the crowd) 
" Christ is risen ! " 

[The crowd continues to pour in, filling the entire 
stage. Gaping mouths and round, wide-open eyes 
are seen everywhere. Shrill shrieks are uttered by 
the crazed epileptics. A momentary outcry is heard: 
" Somebody crushed ! " Tony's laughter dies away 
somewhere. The triumphant hymn rises, spreads, 
passes into a titanic roar that drowns every other 
sound. The bells continue to r'vng. 

crowd (shouting at their utmost power) 

" Christ is risen from the dead. He has conquered 
death with death and given life to those lain in their 
graves. Christ is risen — " 

CURTAIN 



THE LIFE OF MAN 

(Zhizn Chelovieka) 

A PLAY IN FIVE SCENES WITH A PROLOGUE 

1906 



TO THE BRIGHT MEMORY OF MY FRIEND, MY WIFE 
I DEDICATE THIS COMPOSITION 

THE LAST 

ON WHICH WE WORKED TOGETHER 



PERSONS 

Someone in Gray called He 
Man 

His Wife 
•Father 
Relatives 
Neighbors 
Man's < Friends 
Enemies 
Guests 
.Servants 
Musicians 
Physicians 
A Bartender 
Drunkards 
Old Women 

Prologue — Someone in Gray called He, speaking of 

the Life of Man 
Scene I — The Birth of Man and the Mother's Travail 
Scene II — Love and Poverty 
Scene III — Wealth. Man's Ball 
Scene IV — Man's Misfortune 
Scene V — The Death of Man 



THE LIFE OF MAN 

PROLOGUE 

SOMEONE IN GRAY CALLED HE, SPEAKING 
OF THE LIFE OF MAN 

A large, rectangular space resembling a room with- 
out doors or windows and quite empty. Everything 
is gray, monocolored, drab — the walls gray, and the 
ceiling, and the floor. A feeble, even light enters from 
some invisible source. It too is gray, monotonous, 
spectral, producmg neither lights nor shadows. 

Someone in Gray moves noiselessly away from the 
wall, close against which He has been standmg. He 
wears a broad, gray, formless smock, vaguely outlining 
the contours of His body; and a hat of the same gray 
throws the upper part of His face mto heavy shadow. 
His eyes are invisible. All that is seen are His cheek- 
bones, His nose, and His chin, which is massive, heavy, 
and blunt, as if hewn out of rock. His lips are pressed 
tight together. Raising His head slightly, He begins 
to speak in a firm, cold, unemotional, wriimpassioned 
voice, like a reader hired by the hour reading the Book 
of Fate with brutal indifference. 

SOMEONE IN GRAY 

Look and listen, you who have come here to laugh 
and be amused. There will pass before you the whole 



156 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene i 

life of Man, from his dark beginning to his dark end- 
ing. Previously non-existant, mysteriously hidden in 
the infiniteness of time, neither feeling nor thinking, 
and known to no one, he will mysteriously break 
through the prison of non-being and with a cry an- 
nounce the beginning of his brief life. In the night of 
non-existence a light will go up, kindled by an unseen 
hand. It is the life of Man. Behold the flame — it is 
the life of Man. 

Being born, he will take the form and the name of 
Man, and in all things will become like other men al- 
ready living. And their hard lot will be his lot, and 
his hard lot will be the lot of all human beings. In- 
exorably impelled by time, he will, with inavertible 
necessity, pass through all the stages of human life, 
from the bottom to the top, from the top to the bottom. 
Limited in vision, he will never see the next step which 
his unsteady foot, poised in the air, is in the very act 
of taking. Limited in knowledge, he will never know 
what the coming day will bring, or the coming hour, 
or the coming minute. In his unseeing blindness, 
troubled by premonitions, agitated by hope and fear, 
he will submissively complete the iron-traced circle 
foreordained. 

Behold him a happy youth. See how brightly the 
candle burns. From boundless stretches of space the 
icy wind blows, circling, careering, and tossing the 
flame. In vain. Bright and clear the candle burns. 
Yet the wax is dwindling, consumed by the fire. Yet 
the wax is dwindling. 

Behold him a happy husband and father. But see 
how strangely dim and faint the candle burns, as if 
the yellowing flame were wrinkling, as if it were shiver- 



scene i] THE LIFE OF MAN 157 

ing with cold and were creeping into concealment. The 
wax is melting, consumed by the fire. The wax is 
melting. 

Behold him an old man, ill and feeble. The stages 
of life are already ended. In their stead nothing but 
a black void. Yet he drags on with palsied limbs. 
The flame, now turned blue, bends to the ground and 
crawls along, trembling and falling, trembling and 
falling. Then it goes out quietly. 

Thus Man will die. Coming from the night, he will 
return to the night and go out, leaving no trace behind. 
He will pass into the infinity of time, neither thinking 
nor feeling, and known to no one. And I, whom all 
call He, shall remain the faithful companion of Man 
throughout his life, on all his pathways. Unseen by 
him, I shall be constantly at hand when he wakes and 
when he sleeps, when he prays and when he curses. 
In his hours of joy, when his spirit, free and bold, 
rises aloft; in his hours of grief and despair, when his 
soul clouds over with mortal pain and sorrow, and 
the blood congeals in his heart ; in the hours of victory 
and defeat; in the hours of great strife with the im- 
mutable, I shall be with him — I shall be with him. 
And you who have come here to be amused, you who 
are consecrated to death, look and listen. There will 
pass before you, like a distant phantom echo, the 
fleet-moving life of Man with its sorrows and its joys. 
[Someone in Gray turns silent. The light goes out, 
and He and the gray, empty room are enveloped in 
darkness. 



THE FIRST SCENE 

THE BIRTH OF MAN AND THE 
MOTHER'S TRAVAIL 

Profound darkness; not a stir. Like a smarm of 
mice in hiding, the gray silhouettes of Old Women m 
strange headgear are dimly discerned; also vaguely 
the outline of a large, lofty room. The Old Women 
carry on a conversation in low, mocking voices. 

OLD WOMEN'S CONVERSATION 

— I wonder whether it '11 be a boy or a girl. 

— What difference does it make to you? 

— I like boys. 

— I like girls. They always sit at home waiting till 
you call on them. 

— Do you like to go visiting? 
[The Old Women titter. 

— He knows. 

— He knows. {Silence) 

— Our friend would like to have a girl. She says 
boys are so restless and venturesome and are always 
seeking danger. Even when they are little, they like 
to climb tall trees and bathe in deep water. They 
often fall, and they drown. And when they get to 
be men, they make wars and kill one another. 

— She thinks girls don't drown. I have seen many 
girls drowned. They look like all drowned people, 
wet and green. 



scene i] THE LIFE OF MAN 159 

— She thinks girls don't get killed by stones thrown 
at them. 

— Poor woman, she has such a hard time giving birth 
to her child. We have been sitting here sixteen 
hours, and she is still crying. At first she cried out 
loud. Her screams pierced our ears. Then she 
cried more quietly, and now she is only moaning. 

— The doctor says she '11 die. 

— No, the doctor says the child will die and she will 
live. 

— Why do they bear children? It is so painful. 

— And why do they die ? It is still more painful. 
[The Old Women laugh suppressedly. 

— Yes, they bear children and die. 

— And bear children again. 

[They laugh. A subdued cry of the suffering woman 
is heard. 

— Beginning again. 

— She 's recovered her voice. That 's good. 

— That 's good. 

— Poor husband. He 's lost his head completely. 
You ought to see him. He 's a sight. At first he was 
glad his wife was pregnant and said he wanted a boy. 
He thinks his son will be a cabinet minister or a 
general. Now he does n't want anything, neither a 
boy nor a girl. He just goes about grieving and 
crying. 

— Every time she is seized with pain he begins to 
labor, too, and gets red in the face. 

— He was sent to the chemist's shop for medicine, 
and he hung about there for two hours without being 
able to remember what he was sent for. He returned 
without it. 



160 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene i 

[The Old Women titter. The cries grow louder and 
die away. Silence. 

— What's the matter with her? Maybe she has 
died already. 

— No. If she had, we 'd hear crying, and the doc- 
tor would come running and begin to talk nonsense. 
They 'd bring her husband out in a faint, and we 'd 
have to work over him. No, she 's not dead. 

— Then what are we sitting here for? 

— Ask Him. What do we know? 

— He won't tell. 

— He won't tell. He never tells anything. 

— He orders us about as he pleases, gets us out of 
bed, and makes us watch; and then it turns out 
that our coming was n't even needed. 

— We came of our own accord, did n't we ? We 
must tell the truth. There, she 's screaming again. 

— Have n't you had as much of it as you want ? 

— Are you satisfied? 

— I keep my mouth shut and wait. 

— You 're an angel. 

[They laugh. The cries grow louder. 

— Listen to her. What fearful pain she must be 
suffering. Have you an idea of what the pain is like? 
It 's as if your insides were being torn to pieces. 

— We all have borne children. 

— It's just as if she were not herself. I don't 
recognize our friend's voice. It 's naturally so soft 
and gentle. 

— Her screaming is more like the roar of a wild 
beast. 

— You feel the night in it. ■* 



scene i] THE LIFE OF MAN 161 

— You feel the boundless black forest and hopeless- 
ness and terror. 

— You feel solitude and grief. There are other 
people with her. Why can't you hear other voices 
beside that savage, dismal wail? 

— They are talking, but you can't hear them. Have 
you ever noticed how solitary man's cries are? Any 
number of men will talk, and you won't hear them. 
But let one human being cry, and it seems as if 
the others were all silent, listening. 

— I once heard a man scream who had been run over 
by a carriage and had his leg crushed. The street 
was full of people. Yet he seemed to be the only 
one there. 

— But this is more terrible. 

— Say rather it is louder. 

— I should say it is more prolonged. 

— No, it 's more terrible. You feel death in it. 

— You had a feeling of death then, too. In fact, 
the man did die. 

— Don't dispute. It 's all the same to you. 
[Silence. Cries. 

— How strange man's crying is ! When you your- 
self are ill and cry, you don't notice how strange it 
is. I can't imagine the mouth that produces such 
sounds. Can it be a woman's mouth? I can't 
imagine it. 

— It 's as if it got twisted and crooked. 

— As if the sound issued from some depth. Now 
it 's like the cry of someone drowning. Listen, she 's 
choking. 

— A heavy person is sitting on her chest. 

— Someone is choking her. 



162 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene i 

[The crying ceases, 

— At last she has quieted down. You get tired of 
crying. It 's monotonous and not beautiful. 

— You 're looking for beauty here too, are you? 
[The Old Women titter. 

— Hush ! Is He here ? 

— I don't know, 

— He seems to be. 

— He does n't like laughing. 

— They say He laughs Himself. 

— Whoever heard Him laugh? You are simply re- 
peating hearsay. So many lies are told about Him. 
J — He hears us. Let us be serious. 

[They laugh quietly. 

— After all, I 'd like to know whether it '11 He a boy 
or a girl. 

— I admit, it 's interesting to know whom you '11 
have to deal with. 

— I wish it died before it was born. 

— What a kind creature you are. 

— No better than you. 

— I hope it turns out to be a general. 
[They laugh. 

— You are too merry. I don't like it. 

— And you are too sad. I don't like that. 

— Don't wrangle. Don't wrangle. We are all both 
sad and merry. Let each be what she pleases. 
{Silence) 

— When they are born, they are so funny. Babies 
are very funny. 

— And self-satisfied. 

— And very exacting. I don't like them. They be- 
gin to cry at once and make demands, as if they 



scene i] THE LIFE OF MAN 163 

expected everything to be ready for them. Even 
before looking, they know there is a breast and milk, 
and demand them. Then they demand to be put to 
sleep and rocked and dandled and patted on their 
red backs. I like them better when they die. Then 
they 're less exacting. They stretch out of them- 
selves and don't ask to be rocked. 

— No, they are very funny. I like to wash them 
when they are born. 

— I like to wash them when they are dead. 

— Don't dispute. Don't dispute. Each will have her 
way. One will wash the child when it is born, an- 
other when it dies. 

— But why do they think they have a right to make 
demands the moment they are born? I don't like it. 
They don't think they have. It 's their stomachs 
that make the demands. 

■ — They 're forever demanding. 

— But their demands are never granted. 

[The Old Women laugh. The cries begin agam, 

— She is screaming again. 

— Animals give birth to their offspring more easily. 

— And they die more easily, and live more easily. I 
have a cat. You ought to see how fat and happy 
she is. 

— I have a dog, and I tell him every day : " You are 
going to die." His only reply is to show his teeth 
and to wag his tail gayly. 

— -But they are animals. 

— And these are human beings. 
[They laugh. 

— Now she '11 either die or be delivered. I feel that 
the whole remnant of her strength is in that wail. 



164 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene i 

— Eyes wide open. 

— Cold perspiration on her forehead. 
[They listen. 

— She is giving birth to the child. 

— No, she is dying. 
[The cries cease. 

— I tell you — 

someone in gray ( speaks in a resonant, powerful voice) 
Silence! Man is born. 

[Almost simultaneously with His announcement the 
crying of an infant is heard and the candle in His 
hand lights. A tall candle. It burns hesitatingly 
and feebly. Gradually the -flame grows stronger. 
The corner in which Someone in Gray stands motion- 
less is ahvays darker than the other corners, and the 
yellow flame illumines His blunt chin, His tightly 
closed lips, and His massive, bony face. The upper 
part of His face is concealed by His cap. He is 
somewhat taller than an ordinary man. 
He puts the long, thick candle in an antique candle- 
stick. His hand comes mto relief against the green 
bronze. It is gray, firm, with long, thin fingers. 
Gradually the room grows brighter. The figures of 
five hunch-backed Old Women emerge from the 
gloom, and the room becomes visible. It is rectangu- 
lar, with high, smooth, monotonously colored walls. 
Two curtainless windows in the background and two 
on the right. The night glooms through them. 
Straight, high-backed chairs against the walls. 

the old women (talking rapidly) 

— Hear them running about. They 're coming here. 

— How bright it is ! Let 's go. 

— Look, the candle is tall and bright. 



scene i] THE LIFE OF MAN 165 

— Let 's go, let 's go. Quick ! 

— But we '11 come back. We '11 come back. 
[They laugh quietly, mockingly, and disappear into 
the dusk with odd, zigzagging movements. As they 
leave, the light grows brighter, but still it remains 
dim, lifeless, and cold. The corner in which Someone 
in Gray stands motionless with the burning candle is 
darker than the others. 

Enter the Doctor in a white uniform, and Man's 
Father, whose face wears an expression of extreme 
exhaustion and joy. There are lines under his eyes; 
his cheeks are sunken and Jus hair is dishevelled; he 
is very negligently dressed. The Doctor looks very 
learned. 

DOCTOR 

Up to the very last moment I did n't know whether 
your wife would pull through or not. I used all the 
means at the disposal of medical skill and science. 
But science can do very little unless nature helps 
too. I was really excited. My pulse is still going 
hard. Though I have assisted at so many births, 
yet I can't rid myself of a sense of uneasiness. But 
you are not listening to me, sir. 
man's father 

I 'm listening, but I can't hear. Her screams are 
still ringing in my ears, and it 's hard for me to pull 
myself together. Poor woman, how she suffered! 
I was a fool, I was stupid and wanted to have chil- 
dren. But hereafter I will renounce. It is criminal. 

DOCTOR 

You will call me again when your next child comes. 

FATHER 

No, never. I 'm ashamed to admit it, but just now 



166 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene i 

I hate the child for which she suffered so. I did n't 
even see him. What sort of a boy is he? 

DOCTOR 

He 's a well-fed, strong little youngster, and if I 'm 
not mistaken he resembles you. 

FATHER 

Me? Fine! Now I'm beginning to love him. I 
always wanted a boy to look like me. Did you see 
— his nose is like mine, isn't it? 

DOCTOR 

Yes, his nose and eyes. 

FATHER 

His eyes too ? Ah, that 's good. I '11 raise your fee. 

DOCTOR 

You '11 have to pay me for using the instruments 
also. 
father (turning to the corner where He stands mo- 
tionless) God, I thank Thee for having granted 
my wish and given me a son who resembles me. I 
thank Thee for preserving my wife from death and 
bringing my child into the world alive. I pray Thee 
that he may grow up big, healthy, and strong; that 
he may be wise and honest, and that he may never 
cause us grief, but be a constant joy to his mother 
and me. If Thou wilt do this, I will always believe 
in Thee and go to church. 

[Enter Relatives, six in number. An elderly woman, 
uncommonly stout, with a double chin and small, 
proud eyes and an air of extreme haughtiness and 
self-importance. An elderly man, her husband, very 
tall and uncommonly thin, so that his coat hangs 
loosely on his body; a short goatee, long, smooth 
hair, as if wet, reaching to his shoulders; eye- 



scene i] THE LIFE OF MAN 167 

glasses; has a frightened yet pedantic expression; 
a low black silk hat in his hand. A young girl, their 
daughter, with naively upturned nose, blinking eyes, 
and open mouth. A weazened woman, with con- 
tracted features and a sour expression, in her hand 
a handkerchief, with which she frequently wipes her 
mouth. Two young men, looking absolutely alike, 
with extremely high collars that stretch their necks; 
glossy hair; a hesitating, embarrassed expression. 
The characteristics of each of the Relatives is ex- >/ 
aggerated in the extreme. 

ELDERLY LADY 

Let me congratulate you on the birth of your son, 
dear brother. (Kisses him) 

ELDERLY MAN 

My dear brother, I heartily congratulate you on 
the birth of your son, to which you have been looking 
forward so long. (Kisses him) 

THE REST 

We congratulate you, dear uncle, on the birth of 
your son. 

[They kiss him. Exit the Doctor. 
man's father (greatly moved) 

Thank you! Thank you! You are all very good, 
very nice, dear people, and I love you very much. 
I had my doubts before, and thought that you, dear 
sister, were a little too much rapt up in yourself 
and your own worth and importance ; and that you, 
dear brother, were somewhat too pedantic. The rest 
of you I thought were too cold to me, and came 
here only for the sake of the dinners. Now I see I 
was mistaken. I 'm very happy. I get a son who 
resembles me, and then all at once I see myself 



168 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene i 

surrounded by so many good people who love me. 
{They kiss) 

GIRL 

Uncle dear, what are you going to call your son? I 
hope you '11 give him a lovely, poetic name. So 
much depends on a man's name. 

ELDERLY LADY 

I should advise a simple, solid name. Men with nice 
names are usually frivolous and rarely successful. 

ELDERLY MAN 

It seems to me, brother, you should name your son 
after some older relative. Keeping the same names 
in the family tends to preserve and strengthen the 
line. 

FATHER 

Yes, my wife and I have already discussed the sub- 
ject, but have not been able to reach a decision. 
You see, there are so many new things to think of 
when a child comes, so many new problems to solve 
which never arose before. 

ELDERLY LADY 

It fills up your life. 

ELDERLY MAN 

It gives life a beautiful purpose. By properly edu- 
cating a child, preventing it from making the 
mistakes which we had to pay for so dearly, and 
strengthening its mind with our own rich experiences, 
we produce a better man and advance slowly but 
surely toward the final goal of existence, which is 
perfection. 

FATHER 

You are quite right, brother. When I was little I 
loved to torture animals. That developed cruelty 



scene i] THE LIFE OF MAN 169 

in me. I won't allow my son to torture animals. 
Even after I had grown up I often made mistakes 
in my friendships and love. I chose friends who 
were unworthy and women who were faithless. I '11 
explain to my son — 
doctor (enters and says aloud) 

Your wife is feeling very bad. She wants to see you. 

FATHER 

Oh, my God! (He and the Doctor leave) 
[The Relatives seat themselves in a semicircle. Sol- 
emn silence for a time. Someone in Gray stands 
motionless in the corner, His stony face turned 
toward them. 
relatives' conversation 

— Do you think, dear, she may die?. 

— No, I don't think so. She is a very impatient 
woman and makes too much of her pains. All women 
bear children and none of them die. I have borne six 
children. 

— But the way she screamed, mamma ? 

— Yes, her face was purple from screaming. I 
noticed it. 

— Not from screaming, but from laboring. You 
don't understand about these things. My face got 
purple too, but I did n't scream. 

— Not long ago an acquaintance of mine, the civil 
engineer's wife, gave birth to a child, and she scarcely 
made a sound. 

— I know. There 's no need for my brother to be so 
upset. One must be firm and take things calmly. 
And I 'm afraid, too, he '11 introduce a lot of his 
fantastic notions in the bringing up of his children 
and indulge their every whim. 



170 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene i 

— He 's a very weak character. He has little enough 
money, and yet he lends it to people who don't 
deserve to be trusted. 

— Do you know how much the child's layette cost? 

— Don't talk to me of it ! It gets on my nerves, my 
brother's extravagance does. I often quarrel with 
him because he 's so improvident. 

— They say a stork brings babies. What sort of a 
stork is it? 

[The young men burst out laughing. 

— Don't talk nonsense. I gave birth to five children 
right in your presence, and I 'm no stork, thank the 
Lord. 

[The young men burst our laughing again. The 
Elderly Woman eyes them long and sternly. 

— It 's only a superstition. Children are born in an 
absolutely natural way, firmly established by science. 
They 've moved to new quarters now. 

— Who? 

— The engineer and his wife. Their old place was 
chilly and damp. They complained to the landlord 
several times, but he paid no attention. 

— I think it 's better to live in a small place that 's 
warm than in a large place that 's damp. You are 
liable to catch your death of cold and rheumatism 
if you live in a damp house. 

— I have a friend, too, who lives in a very damp 
house. And I too. Very damp. 

— There are so many damp places nowadays. 

— Tell me, please — I 've been wanting to ask you a 
long time — how do you remove a grease stain from 
light-colored material ? 

— Woollen ? 



scene i] THE LIFE OF MAN 171 

— No, silk. 

[The child's crying is heard behind the scene. 

— Take a piece of ice and rub it on the spot hard. 
Then take a hot iron and press the spot. 

— No ? Fancy, how simple ! I heard benzine was 
better. 

— No, benzine is good for dark material. For light 
goods ice is better. 

— I wonder whether smoking is allowed here. Some- 
how it never occurred to me before whether one may 
or may not smoke where there is a new-born 
baby. 

— It never occurred to me either. How strange ! I 
know it is n't proper to smoke at funerals, but 
here — 

— Nonsense ! Of course you may smoke. 

— Smoking is a bad habit just the same. You are 
still a very young man and ought to take good 
care of your health. There are many occasions in 
life when good health is highly essential. 

— But smoking stimulates. 

— Believe me, it 's a very unhealthy stimulant. 
When I was young and reckless, I was also guilty of 
using, or rather abusing, tobacco — 

— Mamma, listen to him crying. My, how he 's cry- 
ing! Does he want milk, mamma? 

[The young men burst out laughing. The Elderly 
Woman looks at them sternly. 

CURTAIN 



THE SECOND SCENE 
LOVE AND POVERTY 

The entire place is filled with a warm, bright light. 
A large, very poor room, high walls, the color of old 
rose, covered here and there with beautiful, fantastic, 
roughly drawn designs. To the right are two lofty 
wvndows, eight panes in each, with the darkness of night 
glooming through them. Two poor beds, two chairs, 
and a bare table, on which stands a half-broken pitcher 
of water and a pretty bunch of flowers. 

In the darkest corner stands Someone in Gray, the 
candle in His hand now reduced by a third, but the 
flame still very bright, high, and white. It throws a 
powerful light on His face and chin. 

Enter the Neighbors, dressed in light, gay dresses, 
their hands full of flowers, grasses, and fresh branches 
of oak and birch. They run about the room, scatter- 
ing them. Their faces are merry, simple, and good- 
natured, 

neighbors' conversation 

— How poor they are ! Look, they have n't even a 
single spare chair. 

— And no curtains in the windows. 

— And no pictures on the walls. 

— How poor they are ! All they eat is hard bread. 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 173 

— And all they drink is water, cold water from the 
spring. 

— They don't own any clothes at all except what 
they have on. She always goes about in her rosy 
dress with her neck bare, which makes her look like a 
young girl. 

— And he wears his blouse and loose necktie, which 
makes him look like an artist, and makes the dogs 
bark at him. 

— And makes all the respectable people disapprove 
of him. 

— Dogs hate the poor. I saw three dogs attack him 
yesterday. He beat them off with a stick and 
shouted : " Don't you dare to touch my trousers ; 
they 're my last pair ! " And he laughed, and the 
dogs flung themselves at him and showed their teeth 
and barked viciously. 

— I saw two respectable people, a lady and a gentle- 
man, meet him on the street to-day. They were 
terribly frightened and crossed to the other side. 
" He '11 ask for money," said the gentleman. " He '11 
kill us," piped the lady. From the other side of 
the street they looked back at him and held on to 
their pockets. He shook his head and laughed. 

— He 's such a j oily good fellow. 

— They 're always laughing. 

— And singing. 

— It 's he who sings. She dances. 

— In her rosy dress, with her little bare neck. 

— It does one good to look at them. They are so 
young and wholesome. 

— I am sorry for them. They 're starving. Do you 
understand ? They 're actually going without food. 



174 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene ii 

— Yes, it 's true. They had more clothes and furni- 
ture, but they sold every bit, and now they 've 
nothing more to sell. 

— I know. She had such pretty earrings, and she 
sold them to buy bread. 

— He had a beautiful black frock-coat, the one in 
which he was married, and he sold that too. 

— The only thing they have left is their engagement 
rings. How poor they are ! 

— That 's nothing. I was once young myself, and I 
know what it is. 

— What did you say, grandpa? 

— I said it 's nothing, nothing at all. 

— Look, the mere thought of them makes grandpa 
want to sing. 

— And dance. 
[They laugh. 

— He is so kind. He made my boy a bow and arrow. 

— She cried with me when my daughter was ill. 

— - He helped me mend the rickety fence. He 's 
strong. 

— It 's nice to have such good neighbors. Their 
youth warms our cold old age. Their j olliness drives 
away our cares. 

— But their room is like a prison, it 's so empty. 

— No, it 's like a temple. It 's so bright. 

— Look, they have flowers on the table, the flowers 
she picked on her walk in the country in her rosy 
dress with her little bare neck. Here are lilies-of- 
the-valley. The dew has n't dried on them yet. 

— There is the burning campion. 

— And violets. 

— Don't touch, don't touch the flowers, girls. Her 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 175 

kisses are upon them. Don't throw them on the 
floor, girls. Her breath is upon them. Don't blow 
them away with your breath. Don't touch, don't 
touch the flowers, girls. 

— He '11 come and he '11 see the flowers. 

— He '11 take the kisses. 

— He '11 drink her breath. 

— How poor they are! How happy they are! 

— Come, let 's leave. 

— Have n't we brought our dear neighbors any- 
thing? 

— What a shame! 

— I brought a bottle of milk and a piece of white, 
sweet-smelling bread. (Puts them on the table) 

— I brought flowers. (Scatters them) 

— We brought branches of oak and birch with green 
leaves. Let 's put them up around the walls. The 
room will look like cheerful green woods. 

[They decorate the room with the branches, con- 
cealing the dark windows and covering the pinkish 
nakedness of the walls with leaves. 

— I brought a good cigar. It is a cheap one, but it 's 
strong and fragrant and will give pleasant dreams. 

— And I brought a ribbon, a red ribbon. It makes a 
very pretty fancy bow for the hair. It 's a present 
my sweetheart gave me ; but I have so many ribbons 
and she has n't even one. 

— What did you bring, grandpa? Did you bring 
anything? 

— Nothing, nothing, except my cough. They don't 
want that, do they, neighbor? 

— No more than they want my crutches. Hey, girls, 
who wants my crutches? 



176 THE LIFE OF MAX [scene ii 

— Do you remember, neighbor? 

— Do you remember, neighbor? 

— Come, let 's go to sleep, neighbor. It 's late al- 
ready. {They sigh and leave, one coughing, the 
other knocking the floor with his crutches) 

— Come, come ! 

— May God give them happiness. They are such 
good neighbors. 

— God grant that they may always be healthy and 
merry and always love each other. And may the 
hideous black cat never pass between them. 

— And may the good man find work. It 's bad when 
a man is out of work. (They leave) 

[Enter immediately the Wife of Man, very pretty, 
graceful, and delicate, wearing flowers in her luxuri- 
ant hair which is hanging loose. The expression on 
her face is very sad. She seats herself on a chair, 
folds her hands in her lap, and speaks in a sad tone, 
turned toward the audience. 
man's wife 

I 've just returned from the city, where I went look- 
ing for I don't know what. We are so poor, we have 
nothing, and it 's very hard for us to live. We need 
money, and I don't know how in the world to get it. 
People won't give it to you for the asking, and I 
have n't the strength to take it away from them. I 
was looking for work, but I can't get work either. 
There are lots of people and little work, they say. 
I looked on the ground as I walked to see if some 
rich person had n't lost his purse, but either nobody 
had lost one or somebody luckier than I had already 
picked it up. I feel so sad. My husband will soon 
come from his search for work, tired and hungry. 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 177 

What am I to give him except my kisses? But you 
can't satisfy your hunger on kisses. I feel so sad 
I could cry. 

I can go without eating for a long time and not feel 
it, but he can't. He has a large body which de- 
mands food, and when he 's gone a long time without 
it, he gets pale, sick, and excited. He scolds me 
and then begs me not to be angry at him. I never 
am angry at him, because I love him dearly. It only 
makes me feel so sad. 

My husband is a very talented architect. I even 
think he 's a genius. He was left an orphan when 
a mere boy, and after his parents' death his relatives 
supported him for some time; but as he was always 
of an independent nature, sharp in his talk and 
prone to make unpleasant remarks, and as he showed 
them no gratitude, they dropped him. He continued 
to study, nevertheless, supporting himself by giving 
lessons, and so made his way through college. He 
often went hungry, my poor husband. Now he is 
an architect and draws plans of beautiful buildings, 
but no one wants to buy them, and many stupid per- 
sons make fun of them even. To make one's way in 
the world one must have either patrons or luck. He 
has neither. So he goes about looking for a chance, 
and maybe with his eyes on the ground looking for 
money like me. He is still very young and simple. 
Of course, some day fortune will come to us, too. 
But when will it be? In the meantime it 9 s very hard 
to live. When we were married we had a little prop- 
erty, but we soon spent it. We went to the theatre 
and ate candy. He still has hopes, but I sometimes 
lose all hope and cry to myself. My heart breaks 



178 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene n 

when I think he '11 be here soon and I have nothing 
to give him again except my poor kisses. 

God, be a kind, merciful Father to us. You have 
so much of everything, bread and work and money. 
Your earth is so rich. She grows corn and fruit in 
her fields, covers the meadows with flowers, and 
yields gold and beautiful precious stones from her 
bowels. And your sun has so much warmth, and 
your pensive stars have so much quiet joy. Give us, 

1 pray you, a little from your abundance, just a 
little, as much as you give your birds. A little 
bread, so that my dear good husband may not be 
hungry ; a little warmth, so that he may not be cold ; 
and a little work, so that he may carry his beautiful 
head erect. And please do not be angry with my 
husband because he swears so and laughs, and even 
sings and makes me dance. He is so young and not 
a bit staid or serious. 

Now, after I have prayed, I feel relieved and hopeful 
again. Why, indeed, should God not grant one's 
request when one asks Him for it so earnestly? I '11 
go and hunt a little to see if somebody has n't 
dropped a purse or a diamond. (Exit) 

SOMEONE IN GRAY 

She knows not that her wish has already been ful- 
filled. She knows not that this morning two men in 
a rich house were bending eagerly over a sketch by 
Man and were delighted with it. They searched for 
Man the whole day; wealth was looking for him as 
he was looking for wealth. And to-morrow morning, 
after the neighbors have gone to work, an automobile 
will stop in front of this house, and two men bending 
low will enter the poor room and bring wealth and 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 179 

fame. But neither he nor she knows it. Thus 
fortune will come to Man, and thus also it will go. 
[Enter Man and his Wife. He has a beautiful proud 
head, bright eyes, a high forehead, dark eyebrows 
part'vng at tJw root of the nose like two bold wings, 
and wavy black hair carelessly tossed back. A low, 
white, turndown collar reveals a well-formed neck 
and. part of his chest. He is light and quick in his 
movements, like a young animal. 

MAN 

Nothing again. I '11 lie down and remain in bed the 
whole day. Anyone wanting me will have to come 
here. I can't go to him. I '11 stay in bed the whole 
of to-morrow too. 

WIFE 

Are you tired? 

MAN 

Yes, I 'm tired and hungry. I could eat a whole ox, 
like the Homeric hero, but I shall have to content 
myself with a piece of hard bread. Don't you know 
that a man can't live all the time on bread alone? 
I want to tear, bite, chew! 

WIFE 

I 'm sorry for you, dear. 

MAN 

I 'm sorry for myself, but that does n't satisfy my 
hunger. I stood a whole hour in front of a res- 
taurant to-day, looking at the chickens, pastry, and 
sausages, as people look at works of art. And then 
the signs. They describe ham so well that you 
could eat sign and all. 

WIFE 

I like ham too. 



180 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene ii 

MAN 

Who does n't like ham? How about lobster? Do 
you like lobster? 

WIFE 

Yes. 

MAN 

You should have seen the lobster I saw. It was a 
painted one, but it was even more beautiful than a 
live one. Red like a cardinal, majestic, stern. You 
could kneel down and do homage to it. I think I 
could eat two such cardinals and a priest of a carp 
besides. 
wife {sadly) 

You did n't see my flowers, did you ? 

MAN 

Flowers? You can't eat flowers, can you? 

WIFE 

You don't love me. 
man (kisses her) 

Excuse me, but really I 'm so hungry. Look, my 

hands are trembling and I have n't even the strength 

to throw a stone at a dog. 
wife (Jcisses his hand) 

My poor husband! 

MAN 

Where do those leaves on the floor come from? 
They smell so good. Is that your work too? 

WIFE 

No, the neighbors must have done it. 

MAN 

Fine people our neighbors are. It 's strange, there 
are so many good people in the world, and yet a 
man can die of hunger. Why is it? 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 181 

WIFE 

You 've turned so sad. Your face is growing pale. 
What is the matter? Do you see anything? 

MAN 

Yes, as I was joking, the terrible image of poverty 
glided in front of me and stopped there, in the 
corner. Do you see it? Arms stretched out in com- 
plaint, a child abandoned in the woods, a praying 
voice, and the stillness of a human desert. Help! 
No one hears. Help, I'm dying! No one hears. 
Look, wife, look! See the dark, gloomy shadows 
there, quivering and rising like black smoke from a 
long, terrible chimney leading into hell. Look! 
And I 'm in the midst of them ! 

WIFE 

I 'm afraid. I can't look in that dark corner. Did 
you see all that in the street? 

MAN 

Yes, I saw it in the street, and soon it '11 be that 
way with us. 

WIFE 

No, God will not permit it. 

MAN 

Then why does He permit it to happen to others? 

WIFE 

We 're better than others. We are good people. 
We never offend Him. 

MAN 

You think so? I do a lot of swearing. 

WIFE 

You 're not bad. 

MAN 

Yes, I am bad. When I walk along the street and 



182 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene ii 

see all the things that don't belong to us, I feel as 
if I had tusks like a boar. Oh, how much money 
I have n't got ! Listen, my dear wife. I was walk- 
ing in the park to-day, that lovely park, where the 
paths are straight as arrows and the beech-trees like 
kings wearing crowns — 

WIFE 

And I was walking in the city streets. Shops every- 
where, such beautiful shops ! 

MAN 

I saw men, beautifully dressed, carrying canes, and 
I thought : " I have n't anything like that." 

WIFE 

I saw elegantly dressed women, wearing dainty shoes 
that make your feet beautiful, and pretty hats from 
under which your eyes shine impenetrably, and silk 
skirts that make such a mysterious rustle; and I 
thought : " I have n't a good hat or a silk skirt." 

MAN 

A ruffian jostled me. I showed him my tusks, and 
he fled in disgrace to hide himself in the crowd. 

WIFE 

A well-dressed lady jostled me, but I didn't even 
look at her, I felt so embarrassed. 

MAN 

Men rode by on proud, fiery horses. And I have 
nothing like that. 

WIFE 

She had diamonds in her ears. You felt like kissing 
them. 

MAN 

Red and green automobiles glided past noiselessly 
like phantoms with burning eyes, and people sat in 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 183 

them and laughed and looked lazily from one side 
to the other. And I have nothing like it. 

WIFE 

And I have no diamonds, no emeralds, no pure white 
pearls. - 

MAN 

I saw a fine restaurant on the Island. It was 
brightly illuminated, like heaven, and they were eat- 
ing there. Black-coated monsters carried around 
butter and bread and wine and beer, and people ate 
and drank. My little wife, I 'm hungry ! I want 
something to eat! 

WIFE 

Dearie, you 're running around all the time, and 
that makes you still hungrier. You 'd better sit 
down. I '11 kneel beside you, and you can take a 
piece of paper and draw a beautiful, beautiful 
building. 

MAN 

My inspiration is also hungry. It draws nothing 
but edible landscapes. My palaces are like portly 
cakes with fat stuffing, and my churches like sau- 
sages. But I see tears in your eyes. What is it, 
my dear wife ? 

WIFE 

I feel so miserable not to be able to help you. 

MAN 

You make me ashamed of myself. I am a strong 
man with a good mind; I am able, talented, and 
healthy, and yet I can't do a thing. My dear wife, 
my little fairy is crying, and I am not able to help 
her. A woman's tears are her husband's disgrace. 
I am ashamed. 



184 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene ii 

WIFE 

But it is n't jour fault that people don't appreciate 
you. 

MAN 

My ears are burning just as they used to when I was 
a boy and had had them boxed. Why, you are 
hungry too, and I, egoist that I am, have n't noticed 
it. It 's mean of me. 

WIFE 

My dear, I don't feel hungry. 

MAN 

It 's unfair, it 's contemptible. That ruffian who 
jostled me was right. He saw I was a fat pig and 
that 's all, a boar with sharp tusks but a stupid 
head. 

WIFE 

If you are going to keep on reproaching yourself, 
I '11 cry again. 

MAN 

Don't, don't. No tears ! Tears in your eyes frighten 
me. I am afraid of those shining crystal drops, as 
if some other, some terrible person were shedding 
them, not you. I won't let you cry. We have 
nothing, we are poor. But I '11 tell you of what we 
are going to have. I will charm you with a bright 
fairy tale, my queen. I will array you in dazzling 
dreams as in roses! 

WIFE 

You must n't be afraid. You are strong, you are a 
genius, you will conquer. Your momentary despair 
will pass away, and divine inspiration will again 
quicken your proud head. 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 185 

man {assumes a challenging attitude and throws an 
oak leaf into the corner where the Unknown stands, 
saying) Ho, you, whatever your name, Fate, Devil, 
or Life, I fling my glove down before you, I challenge 
you to combat ! The poor in spirit bow before your 
enigmatic power. Your stony face inspires them 
with fear ; in your silence they hear the approaching 
tread of misery and terrible ruin. But I am strong 
and bold, and I challenge you to combat ! Come on ! 
Let the swords glitter, the shields clang! Deal and 
receive blows so that the earth trembles ! Ho, come 
forth to battle! 

wife {nestling up at his left, somewhat behmd, speak- 
ing solemnly) Bolder, my husband, still bolder! 

MAN 

To your evil-boding inaction I oppose my living, 
daring strength; to your gloom my clear, resonant 
laugh! Ho, repel the blows! You have a stone 
brow, devoid of reason. I will throw the glowing 
balls of my sparkling thought at it. You have a 
stone heart, devoid of pity. Take care, I will pour 
into it the poison of my rebellious outcries. The 
dark cloud of your grim wrath overshadows the sun. 
We will light the darkness with our swords. Ho, 
repel the blows ! 

WIFE 

Bolder, still bolder, my proud knight ! Your squire 
is behind you. 

MAN 

Victorious, I will sing songs which the whole world 
will reecho; fallen under your blows, my only 
thought shall be to rise again and rush into battle. 
There are weak spots in my armor, but when my 



186 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene ii 

red blood is flowing, I will gather my last strength 
and cry : " You have not conquered, evil Enemy of 
Man!" 

WIFE 

Bolder, my knight! I will wash your wounds with 
my tears. I will stop the flow of your red blood 
with my kisses. 

MAN 

And dying on the field of battle as the brave die, with 
one cry I will destroy your blind joy: "I have 
conquered ! " I have conquered, O cruel Enemy. 
Unto my last breath I did not recognize your power! 

WIFE 

Bolder, my knight, bolder ! I will die beside you. 

MAN 

Ho, come forth to battle! Let the swords glitter, 
the shields clang! Deal and receive blows to make 
the earth tremble! Ho, come forth! 
[For some time Man and his Wife remain in the 
same posture; then they turn around, facing each 
other, and kiss. 

MAN 

That 's the way we '11 deal with life, my dear, won't 
we ? Let it frown like a blind owl in the sun — we '11 
compel it to smile. 

WIFE 

And to dance to our songs — so we will, we two. 

MAN 

We two. You 're a good wife, you 're my true 
friend, you 're a brave little woman, and as long as 
you are with me I fear nothing. Poverty, what does 
it amount to? To-day we 're poor, to-morrow rich. 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 187 

WIFE 

And what is hunger? To-day we are hungry, to- 
morrow satisfied. 

MAN 

Do you think so ? It 's quite possible. But I '11 eat 
a lot. I shall need so much to satisfy my hunger. 
Tell me, do you think this will prove enough? In 
the morning, tea or coffee or chocolate. You can 
have your choice. It 's free. Then a breakfast of 
three courses, then lunch, then dinner, then — 

WIFE 

More fruit. I like fruit. 

MAN 

Very well. I '11 buy fruit by the barrel, direct from 
the wholesale market. It 's cheaper and fresher. 
Besides, we '11 have our own garden. 

WIFE 

But we have no land. 

MAN 

I '11 buy land. I 've always wanted to have my own 
piece of land. By the way, I '11 build a house for us 
and design it too. Let the rascals see what sort 
of an architect I am. 

WIFE 

I should like to live in Italy, close by the sea; in a 
white marble villa in a grove of lemons and cypresses, 
with marble steps leading straight down to the blue 
water. 

MAN 

I understand. That 's all right. But I intend, be- 
sides, to build a castle in the mountains of Norway. 
Below, the fjord; and above, on the steep mountain, 



188 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene ii 

the castle. We have no paper. But look, I '11 show 
it to you on the wall here. Here is the fjord, you see? 

WIFE 

Yes, beautiful. 

MAN 

Here, sparkling blue water gently beating against 
the green grass ; here, beautiful cinnamon-colored 
stone; and there, in the recess, where this spot is, a 
bit of blue sky and serene white clouds. 

WIFE 

Look, there is a white boat floating on the water — 
it looks like two swans swimming side by side. 

MAN 

And up there rises the mountain. Bright and green 
below, it turns gloomier and sterner as it ascends — 
rugged crags, dark shadows, fallen boulders, and 
patches of clouds. 

WIFE 

Like a ruined castle. 

MAN 

And there, on that spot — the middle one — I '11 
build my royal castle. 

WIFE 

It 's cold up there, and windy. 

MAN 

I '11 have thick stone walls and large windows with 
all the panes made out of a single piece of glass. 
At night, when the winter snowstorms begin to rage 
and the fjord below to roar, we '11 draw the curtains 
and make a fire in the huge fireplace. It is such a 
tremendous fireplace that it will hold a whole log. 
It will burn up a whole forest of pines. 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 189 

WIFE 

How nice and warm.' 

MAN 

And how quiet too, if you will please notice. Car- 
pets covering the whole floor and lots of books will 
make it cosy and quietly lively. And we '11 be there, 
the two of us. The wind howling outside and we two 
sitting before the fireplace on a white bear-skin rug. 
" Would n't you like to have a look at what 's doing 
outside?" you'll say. "All right!" And we'll 
go to the largest window and draw aside the curtain. 
Good heavens! What a sight! 

WIFE 

See the snow whirling. 

MAN 

Galloping like white horses, like myriads of fright- 
ened little spirits, pale with fear and seeking safety 
in the night. And what a howling and roaring! 

WIFE 

Oh, it 's cold. I 'm shivering. 

MAN 

Go back to the fireplace, quick! Hey there, fetch 
me grandfather's goblet — not that one, the golden 
one from which the vikings drank. Fill it up with 
sparkling wine — not that way — fill it to the brim 
with the burning draught. Venison is roasting on 
the spit. Bring it here. I '11 eat some. Quick, or 
I '11 eat you. I 'm hungry as the devil. 

WIFE 

There, they have brought it. Now, go on. 

MAN 

Go on? I '11 eat some, of course. What else do you 
expect? What are you doing to my head, little wife? 



190 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene ii 

WIFE 

I am the goddess of fame. I have woven a crown of 
the oak leaves that our neighbors scattered here, and 
I 'm crowning you. It 's Fame that has come to 
you, the beautiful goddess Fame. (Puts the wreath 
on his head) 

MAN 

Yes, fame; loud, noisy fame. Look at the wall. 
Do you see this ? It 's I, walking. And who is this 
next to me? Do you see? 

WIFE 

I. 

MAN 

Look, they are bowing to us ; they are whispering 
about us; they are pointing their fingers at us. 
There is a venerable old gentleman saying with tears 
in his eyes : " Happy the land that has such chil- 
dren ! " See how pale this youth here has turned. 
Fame looked at him and gave him a smile. That 's 
after I built the People's House, which is the pride 
of the whole country. 

WIFE 

You are my famous husband. The oak wreath suits 
you so well. A laurel wreath would become you still 
better. 

MAN 

Look, look, there come the representatives of the 
city where I was born. They bow to me and say: 
"Our city is proud of the honor — " 

WIFE 

Oh! 

MAN 

What is it? 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 191 

WIFE 

I found a bottle of milk. 

MAN 

Impossible ! 

WIFE 

And bread, soft, sweet-smelling bread. And a cigar. 

MAN 

Impossible ! You are mistaken. It 's the dampness 
from that damned wall, that 's what it is. It is n't 
milk. 

WIFE 

But it is. 

MAN 

A cigar? Cigars don't grow on windows. They are 
sold for fortunes in tobacco stores. It 's a black 
stick, a piece of a branch, I 'm sure. 

WIFE 

Look and see. I suppose our neighbors brought it. 

MAN 

Our neighbors ? I tell you they 're people — they 're 
not human — they 're divine. But even if the devil 
himself brought it — quick, give it here, my sweet 
little wife. 

\Marfs Wife seats herself on his knees, and so they 
eat. She breaks off pieces of bread and puts them 
in his mouth. He feeds her the milk from the bottle. 

MAN 

Seems to be cream. 

WIFE 

No, it 's milk. Chew better. You '11 choke. 

MAN 

Give me the crust. It 's so brown. 



192 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene ii 

WIFE 

I told you, you 'd choke. 

MAN 

No, it went down. I swallowed it. 

WIFE 

The milk is running down my chin and neck. Oh, 
it 's tickling me. 

MAN 

Lean over. I '11 lick it off. We must n't let a drop 
go to waste. 

WIFE 

You 're a cunning one. 

MAN 

There ! Quick work. All good things soon come to 
an end. This bottle seems to have a double bottom. 
It looks so large. The glass manufacturers are 
terrible cheats. 

[He lights the cigar with the air of a man relaxing 
into beatific repose. His Wife ties the red ribbon 
in her hair, looking at herself in the dark pane of the 
wmdow. 

WIFE 

Don't you see? 

MAN 

I see everything. I see your ribbon, and I see you 
want me to kiss you on your dear little bare neck. 

WIFE 

No, sir, I won't permit that. You 've grown too 
forward of late anyway. You take such liberties. 
Please go on smoking your cigar and leave my 
neck — 

MAN 

What, isn't your neck mine? I'll be jiggered! 



scene n] THE LIFE OF MAN 193 

Why, it 's an attack on the sacred rights of prop- 
erty! (She runs away; he catches her and kisses 
her) So, the property rights have been restored. 
Now, my dear, we '11 dance. Imagine that this is a 
magnificent, a luxurious, a wonderful, a super- 
natural, an exquisitely beautiful palace. 

WIFE 

Very welL I 'm imagining it. 

MAN 

Imagine you 're the queen of the ball. 

WIFE 

All right. It is imagined. 

MAN 

And that counts, marquises, and dukes come up and 
ask you to dance. But you refuse. You choose 
that one — What 's his name ? — the one in uni- 
form — the prince. What 's the matter ? 
wife 

I don't like princes. 

MAN 

Indeed? Then whom do you like? 

WIFE 

Talented artists. 

MAN 

Very well. Here 's one for you. Why, girl, what 
are you doing? Are you flirting with the air? 

WIFE 

I am imagining. 

MAN 

All right. Imagine a wonderful orchestra. Here is 
the Turkish drum — boom, boom, boom! (He 
strikes his fist on the table as on a drum) 



194 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene n 

WIFE 

Why, dear, it 's only in the circus that they attract 
crowds by beating drums, but in a palace — 

MAN 

Oh, hang it! Stop imagining that, then. Now 
imagine something else. The violins are playing a 
melodious plaint; the flutes are singing gently; the 
double bass drones like a beetle. 
[Man sits down, still wearing his oak wreath, and 
strikes up a dance tune, clapping his hands in ac- 
companiment. The melody is the same as in the 
next scene at Man's ball. The Wife dances. She is 
well-formed and graceful. 

MAN 

Oh, you darling! 

WIFE 

I am the queen of the ball. 

[The song and dance grow ever jollier. Man rises 
slowly and begins to dance lightly on the spot where 
he is standing; then he seizes his Wife and dances 
with her. The oak wreath slips to one side. 
Someone in Gray looks on indifferently, the candle 
burning brightly m his petrified hand. 

curtain 



THE THIRD SCENE 

A BALL AT MAN'S HOUSE 

The ball is in the drawing-room of Man's large 
mansion. It is a very lofty, spacious, perfectly rectan- 
gular room. The floor is bright and smooth. There 
is a certain irregularity about the room due to the 
disproportionate size of the parts. Thus, the doors 
are very small m proportion to the windows. This 
produces a strange, irritating impression, as of some- 
thing disharmonious, something lacking, and also of 
something superfluous and adventitious. The whole is 
pervaded by a chilly white, the monotony of which is 
broken only by a row of windows in the rear wall. They 
are very high, reaching almost to the ceiling, and 
dense with the blackness of night. Not one gleam, 
not a bright spot shows in the blank spaces between 
the window frames. Man's wealth shows in the abun- 
dance of gildings. There are gilded chairs, and very 
wide gold frames enclose the pictures. These consti- 
tute the only furniture as well as the only ornamenta- 
tion. The lighting is from three chandeliers shaped 
like rings, with a few electric lights placed at a great 
distance apart. At the ceiling the light is bright, but 
considerably less so below, so that the walls seem 
grayish. 

The ball is in full suing. The music is furnished by 



196 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene m 

an orchestra of three pieces. The musicians resemble 
closely their respective instruments; the violinist, a 
violin — lean neck, small head, a shock of hair brushed 
to one side, back somewhat bent, a handkerchief cor- 
rectly adjusted on his shoulder under the violin; the 
flute-player, a flute — very tall, with a thin, elongated 
face, and stiff, thi/n legs; the bass-violmist, a double- 
bass — stumpy, round-shouldered, lower part of his 
body very stout, wide trousers. The uncommon effort 
with which the musicians play is painfully evident. 
They beat time, swing their heads, and shake their 
bodies. The tune is the same throughout the ball, a 
short polka in two musical phrases, producing a jolly, 
hopping, extremely insipid effect. The three instru- 
ments do not quite keep time with one another, pro- 
ducing a sort of queer detachment, a vacant space, 
as it were, between them and the sounds which they 
produce. 

Young men and girls are dancing dreamily. All are 
handsome, distinguished-looking, with good figures. 
In contrast to the piercing notes of the music, their 
dancing is smooth, noiseless, light. At the first musical 
phrase, they circle around; at the second, they grace- 
fully part and join again. There is a slight mannerism 
in their dancing. 

Along the walls, on the gilded chairs, sit the Guests, 
stiff and constrained. They scarcely venture to move 
their heads. Their conversation is also constrained. 
They do not whisper to one another; they do not 
laugh, amd they scarcely look at one another. They 
speak abruptly, as if chopping out the words of a text. 
Their hands hanging superciliously over their laps 
make their arms look as if they had been broken at the 



scene in] THE LIFE OF MAN 197 

wrists. The monotony of their faces is strongly em- 
phasized. Every face bears the same expression of 
self-satisfaction, haughtiness, and inane respect for the 
wealth of Man. 

The dancing girls are all in white, the men in black. 
Some of the Guests wear black, white, and brightly 
yellow flowers. 

In the near corner, which is darker than the rest, 
Someone in Gray called He stands motionless. The can- 
dle in his hand is reduced two-thirds and burns with a 
strong, yellow light, casting a yellow sheen on His 
stony face and chin. 

THE GUESTS* CONVERSATION 

— It is a very great honor to be a guest at Man's 
ball. 

— You may add, it is an honor of which very few- 
have been deemed worthy. The whole city tried to 
get themselves invited, but only a very few succeeded. 
My husband, my children, and I are quite proud 
of the honor Man has showed us. 

— I am really sorry for those who were not able to 
get here. They won't sleep the whole night from 
sheer envy, and to-morrow they '11 say nasty things 
about the ball and call it a bore. 

— They never saw such magnificence. 

— Or such wonderful wealth and luxury. 

— Or, I dare say, such charming, free and easy 
gayety. 

— If this is n't gay, I should like to know what is. 

— Oh, what 's the use of talking? You can't con- 
vince people consumed by jealousy. They '11 tell us 
we did n't sit on gilded chairs, absolutely not. 



198 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene m 

— They '11 say that the chairs were of the common- 
est sort, bought at second hand. 

— That the illumination was not by electricity, but 
just by tallow candles. 

— Say candle stumps. 

— Or dirty lamps. 

— They '11 have the impudence to maintain that the 
mouldings in Man's house are not gilded. 

— And that the broad picture frames are not made 
of gold. It seems to me I can hear the very ring of it. 

— You can see its glitter. That 's quite sufficient, I 
should think. 

— I have rarely had the pleasure of hearing such 
music. 

— It is divine harmony. It transports the soul to 
higher spheres. 

— I should think the music good enough, considering 
the money paid for it. It is the best trio in the city. 
They play on the most important and solemn occa- 
sions. 

— If you listen awhile, it compels your absolute 
attention. After a ball at Man's, my children keep 
singing the tune a long time. 

— I sometimes think I hear it in the street. I look 
around — no musicians, no music. 

— What I like especially in these musicians is the 
great effort they make when they play. They know 
the price they 're paid and don't want to get the 
money for nothing. That 's very decent of them. 

— It seems as if they became a part of their instru- 
ments, their efforts are so great. 

— Or as if the instruments became part of them. 

— How rich! 



scene m] THE LIFE OF MAN 199 

— How magnificent ! 

— How brilliant ! 

— How rich ! 

[For some time the two expressions, " How rich! 
How magnificent! " are repeated from different 
parts of the room, uttered abruptly, like a bark, 

— Beside this ballroom there are fourteen other mag- 
nificent rooms in Man's house. I have seen them all. 
The dining-room has such a huge fireplace that you 
can put a whole log into it. There are magnificent 
guest-rooms and a beautiful boudoir. A large bed- 
room, and over the pillows on the beds — just 
fancy ! — canopies ! 

— Why, how wonderful ! Canopies ! 

— Did you hear? Canopies ! 

— Permit me to continue. For their son, the little 
boy, they have a beautiful bright room of golden 
yellow wood. It looks as if the sun were shining 
into it all the time. 

— He is such a fine boy. He has curly hair that 
looks like the rays of the sun. 

— That 's true. When you look at him you wonder 
whether the sun has risen. 

— And when you look at his eyes you think: 
" Autumn is gone, and the blue sky is here again." 

— Man loves his son madly. He bought him a pony 
for horseback riding, a nice snow-white pony. My 
children — 

— Pray, let me continue. Have I told you yet about 
the swimming-pool? 

— No. No. 

— A swimming-pool, a perfect marvel. 

— What, a swimming-pool! 



200 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene hi 

— Yes. And further on is Man's study, full of 
books, books, books. They say he 's a very learned 
man. 

— You can see it by the books. 

— I have seen his garden. 

— I have n't. 

— It was entrancing, I must say. Imagine an 
emerald-green lawn kept beautifully mowed and 
trimmed at the edges. In the middle a path of fine 
red sand. 

— Flowers — even palms. 

— Yes, even palms. And all the trees trimmed as 
carefully and precisely as the lawn, some cut in the 
shape of pyramids, others in the shape of green 
columns. There 's a lovely fountain and little plas- 
ter elves and deer scattered all around in the grass. 

— How rich ! 

— How magnificent ! 
J — How brilliant ! 

— How rich ! 

— Man did me the honor of showing me his stables 
and barns. I had to tell him how much I admired 
his horses and carriages. I was particularly im- 
pressed by his motor car. 

— Think of it, he has seven servants ; seven — a 
chef, a woman-cook, two maids, gardeners — 

— You forget the coachman and the chauffeur. 

— Yes, of course, the coachman and the chauffeur. 

— And they themselves do nothing at all. They are 
too fine. 

— You must admit, it is a great honor to have been 
invited to Man's ball. 

— Don't you find the music somewhat monotonous ? 



scene in] THE LIFE OF MAN 201 

■ — No, I don't, and I 'm surprised you do. Don't 
you see what kind of musicians they are? i 

— I should like to hear such music all my life. 
That 's what I say. There 's something in that 
music that stirs me. 

— Me too. 

— Me too. 

— It is a delicious sensation to abandon oneself to 
dreams of happiness under the influence of this 
music ! 

— To transport oneself in fancy to the astral 
spheres ! 

— How fine ! 

— How rich ! 

— How magnificent! 
[Thtse phrases are repeated. 

— I notice a stir at that door. Man and his Wife 
will soon pass through the hall. 

— The musicians are working away for dear life. 

— There they are ! 

— They 're coming ! Look, they 're coming ! 
[Man, his Wife, his Friends, and his Enemies ap- 
pear in the door on the right, cross the room diago- 
nally to the door on the left. The dancers go on 
dancing, but part to make may for them. The 
musicians play desperately loud and out of tune. 
Man has aged greatly. His long hair and long beard 
are beginning to turn gray. But his face is manly 
and handsome, and he walks with calm dignity and 
an air of coldness. He looks straight ahead of him, 
as if not noticing those around him. His Wife has 
also aged, but she is still beautiful and walks leanvng 
on his arm. She too seems not to notice the people 



202 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene hi 

around her, but looks straight ahead, with a rather 
strange, almost fixed expression. Both are richly 
dressed. 

His Friends follow directly behind Man. They re- 
semble one another very much — noble faces, high 
and candid foreheads, honest eyes. They walk 
proudly, throwing out their chests, stepping firmly 
and confidently, and looking, now to this side, now to 
that, with condescension and slight disdain. They 
wear white roses in their buttonholes. 
Following them at a slight distance come Man's Ene- 
mies, also very much resemblimg one another — mean, 
cunnmg faces; low, heavy foreheads; long, ape- 
like arms. They walk uneasily, pushing, bending, 
and hiding behind one another, and casting sharp, 
mean, envious, sidelong glances from beneath lowered 
lids. Yellow roses appear in their buttonholes. 
Thus they pass through the room, slowly and in 
perfect silence. The sounds of the steps, the music, 
and the exclamations of the Guests produce a 
sharply discordant noise. 
guests' conversation 

— There they are. There they are. What an 
honor! 

— How handsome he is ! 

— What a manly face! 

— Look ! Look ! 

— He is n't looking at us ! 

— He does n't see us ! 

— We are his guests ! 

— What an honor ! What an honor ! 

— And his wife! Look! Look! 

— How beautiful she is ! 



scene in] THE LIFE OF MAN 203 

— How proud ! 

— I tell you, just look at her diamonds! 

— Her pearls ! Her pearls ! 

— And her rubies ! 

— How rich! What an honor! 

— Honor ! Honor ! Honor ! 

[The same phrases are repeated again, 

— Here are Man's Friends ! 

— Look, look, there are Man's Friends. 

— Noble faces ! 

— Proud gait ! 

— They shine with the reflected splendor of his fame. 

— How they love him! 

— How faithful they are to him ! 

— What an honor to be one of Man's Friends ! 

— They regar4 everything here as their own ! 

— They 're at home here ! 

— What an honor ! 

— Honor ! Honor ! Honor ! 
[Same phrases are repeated. 

— And there are Man's Enemies ! 

— Look, look, Man's Enemies ! 

— They walk like whipped curs ! 

— Man has subdued them ! 

— He 's put a muzzle on them ! 

— They 're wagging their tails ! 

— They 're sneaking behind one another. 

— They 're pushing one another. 

— Ha-ha ! Ha-ha ! 
[Everybody laughs. 

— What mean faces! 

— What greedy looks ! 

— Cowardly ! 



204 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene hi 

— Malevolent ! 

— They 're afraid to look at us ! 

— They feel we 're at home ! 

— Let 's frighten them. 

— Man '11 be thankful to us for it. 

— Ho-ho! 

[They shout at Man's Enemies, mingling their 
shouts with laughter. The Enemies huddle closer 
together and cast sharp, timid, sideward glances. 

— They 're going ! They 're going ! 

— What an honor! 

— They 're going ! 

— Ho-ho! Ha-ha! 

— They 're gone ! They 're gone ! They 're gone ! 
[The procession disappears through the door on the 
left. A pause of silence. The music plays less loudly, 
and the dancers begin gradually to fill the hall. 

— Where did they go? 

— I believe they went to the dining-room, where 
supper is being served. 

— I suppose they '11 soon invite us in. Do you see 
anybody looking for us? 

— Yes, it 's time for supper. If you eat too late, 
you can't sleep well. 

— I always serve supper early. 

— A late supper lies heavy on your stomach. 

— And the music is still playing. 

— And they 're still dancing. 

— I wonder they don't get tired. 

— How rich ! 

— How magnificent ! 

— Do you know for how many guests they have 
prepared the supper? 



scene m] THE LIFE OF MAN 205 

— I did n't get a chance to count all the covers. The 
caterer came in, and I had to get out. 

— Could they possibly have forgotten us ? 

— Man is so proud, and we are so unimportant. 

— Don't say that. My husband says we do him an 
honor by accepting his invitation. We are rich, too. 

— When you consider the reputation of his wife — 

— Do you see anyone looking for us ? Maybe he 's 
looking for us in the other rooms. 

— How rich! 

— If you are not careful with other people's money, 
it 's easy to get rich, I think. 

— Oh, now, it 's only his enemies who say that. 

— Well, after all, there are some very respectable 
people among them. I must admit that my hus- 
band — 

— It is late, though. 

— It 's clear there must be a mistake somewhere. I 
can't believe we 've simply been forgotten. 

— Evidently you know people and life very little if 
you think so. 

— I am surprised. We are rich enough ourselves. 
■ — It seems to me someone called us. 

— You 're mistaken, no one called us. I don't under- 
stand it. To be quite frank — why did we come to a 
house like this, with such a reputation? One should 
be very careful of the friends one chooses. 

a liveried lackey {appears at the door) 

Man and his Wife beg the honored guests to step 
into the dining-room. 

guests (rising quickly) 

— What a livery ! 

— He asked us to come in ! 



206 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene in 

— I said there must be a mistake somewhere. 

— Man is so good. I 'm sure he has n't had a 
chance to sit down at table himself. 

— Did n't I say someone was looking for us ? 

— What a livery! 

— They say the supper is grand. 

— Everything at Man's is done in a grand style. 

— What music ! What an honor to be at Man's ball ! 

— Let those envy us who — 

— How grand! 

— How magnificent ! 

— What an honor! 

[They go out one after the other, repeating the 
. .last phrases. One couple after the other stop danc- 
ing and follow the Guests in silence. For some time 
a single couple remain circling on the floor, but they 
too join the others at last. The musicians, however, 
contirme to play, making the same desperate effort. 
The lackey turns out the electric lights, leaving only 
one light m the farthest chandelier. The figures of 
the musicians are vaguely seen in the dim light, sway- 
ing to and fro with their instruments. The outline 
of Someone in Gray is sharply visible. The flame 
of the candle flickers, illuminating His stony face 
and chin with a garish, yellow light. 
He turns around without raising his head, walks 
slowly and calmly through the whole length of the 
room, and disappears through the door through 
which Man passed out. 

CURTAIN 



THE FOURTH SCENE 

MAN'S MISFORTUNE 

A large, gloomy, quadrangular room, with dark 
walls, dark floor, and dark ceiling. There are two 
high, curtainless wvndows with eight panes in the rear 
wall, and between them a small, low door. Two similar 
windows appear in the right wall. Night glooms 
through the windows, and when the door opens, the 
same deep blackness of night stares into the room. 
In general, however bright Man's rooms may be, the 
vast darkness of the windows engulfs the light. 

On the left wall there is nothvng but a small, low* 
door leading to the rest of the house. At the window 
on the right stands a broad sofa covered with dark oil- 
cloth. Man's desk is very simple and poor. On it 
are seen a dimly burning, shaded lamp, a sheet of yellow 
paper with a sketch drawn on it, and a lot of toys — 
a little peaked cap, a wooden horse without a tail, and 
a red, long-nosed clown with bells. Between the wwr 
dows there is an old dilapidated bookcase entirely 
empty. The visible lines of dust left by the books 
show that they must have been removed recently. The 
room has only one chair. 

In the darkest corner stands Someone in Gray called 
He. The candle in his hand is now no longer than it 
is thick. The wax is running over a little. The stump 



208 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene iv 

burns with a reddish, flickering light, and casts a red 
sheen on His stony face and chin. 

The only remaining servant of Man, an Old Woman, 
is sitting on the chair. She speaks in an even voice, 
addressing an imaginary companion. 

OLD WOMAN 

There! Man has slipped back into poverty. He 
had a lot of valuable things, horses and carriages, 
and even an automobile. Now he has nothing. Of 
all his servants I am the only one left. There are 
still some good things in here and in two other 
rooms. There 's the sofa and the bookcase. But in 
the other twelve rooms there 's not a thing. They 
are dark and empty. Rats run around in them day 
and night and fight and squeak. People are afraid, 
but I 'm not. It 's all the same to me. 
An iron sign has been hanging on the gate for ever 
so long, saying the house is for sale. But no one 
wants to buy it. The sign 's rusty already, and the 
rain has worn the letters away. But no one comes 
to buy the house. No one wants an old house. Yet 
maybe someone will buy it. Then we '11 be going to 
look for another place to live in. It '11 be a strange 
place. My mistress will begin to cry, and, I dare 
say, the old gentleman will too. But I won't. It 's 
all the same to me. 

You wonder what 's become of all his riches. I don't 
know. Maybe it seems strange, but I 've been living 
with other people all my life, and many is the time 
I 've seen money disappear, quietly running off 
through some leak or other. That 's the way it has 
happened to these folks too. They had a lot, then 



scene iv ] THE LIFE OF MAN 209 

it got to be a little, and then nothing at all. People 
came and bought things. Then they stopped com- 
ing. I once asked my mistress how it came about. 
She answered : " People have stopped liking what 
they used to like; they have stopped loving what 
they used to love." "How is that possible?" says 
I. " How can people stop liking what they once 
liked ? " She did n't answer and fell to crying. But 
I did n't. It 's all the same to me. It 's all the 
same to me. 

People say they are surprised at me. It 's terrible, 
they say, to live in this house ; terrible to sit here at 
night with only the wind whining in the chimney 
and the rats squeaking and scuffling. Maybe it is 
terrible, I don't know; but I don't think about it. 
Why should I? There they sit, the two of them, 
in their room, looking at each other and listening 
to the whining of the wind ; and I sit in the kitchen 
alone and listen to the whining of the wind. Does n't 
the same wind whine in our ears? Young folks used 
to come to see their son, and they would all laugh 
and sing and go through the empty rooms to chase 
the rats. But nobody comes to me, and I sit alone, 
all alone. There 's no one to talk to, so I talk to 
myself, and it 's all the same to me. 
I 'm sure they had a hard enough time of it — no 
need of more ill luck. But three days ago another 
misfortune happened to them. The young gentle- 
man went out walking, his hat cocked, his hair 
dressed in latest fashion. And a bad man went and 
threw a stone at him from behind a corner and broke 
his head like a nut. They brought him home, put 
him to bed, and now he 's dying in there. Maybe 



210 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene iv 

he '11 recover and live — who knows ? The old lady 
and the old gentleman cried, and then they put all 
the books on a wagon and sold them. With the 
money they hired a nurse, bought medicines, and 
even grapes. So the books, too, were of some good. 
But he does n't eat the grapes. He does n't even 
look at them. They just lie there on the dish, 
just lie there. 
doctor (enters through the outer door; his face looks 
red and his maimer is uneasy) Can you tell me if 
I am in the right place? I 'm a doctor. I have 
many visits to pay, and I often make mistakes. I 'm 
called here and there and everywhere, and all the 
houses look alike and the people in them are all 
sad. Have I struck the right place? 

OLD WOMAN 

I don't know. 

DOCTOR 

I '11 consult my note-book. Is there a child here 
choking with a sore throat? 

OLD WOMAN 

No. 

DOCTOR 

Is there a man here who suddenly went insane from 
poverty and attacked his wife and two children with 
a hatchet? Four patients in all, I suppose. 

OLD WOMAN 

No. 

DOCTOR- 

Is there a girl here whose heart stopped beating? 
Don't lie, old woman, I think she is here. 

OLD WOMAN 

No. 



scene iv] THE LIFE OF MAN 211 

DOCTOR 

Well, I believe you. You seem to speak the truth. 
Is there a young man here whose head was broken 
by a stone and who is dying? 

OLD WOMAN 

Yes. Go through that door on the left, but don't 
go any farther. The rats will eat you up! 

DOCTOR 

Very well. They keep ringing, ringing all the time, 
day and night. Here it is, late at night. All the 
lights in the street are out, and I am still on the run. 
Often I make a mistake and enter the wrong house. 
Yes, old woman, I do. (Exit through the door 
leading inside) 

OLD WOMAN 

One doctor has already treated him, but did n't cure 
him. Now there 's another, and I guess he won't 
cure him either. Well! Then their son will die, 
and we '11 remain alone in the house. I '11 sit in 
the kitchen and talk to myself, and they '11 sit in 
there keeping quiet and thinking. Another room 
vacated, another room for the rats to scuffle in. 
Let them squeak and scuffle. It 's all the same to 
me. It 's all the same to me. You ask me why that 
bad fellow threw the stone at our young gentleman. 
I don't know — how could I know why people want 
to kill each other? One threw a stone from behind 
a corner and ran away ; the other one fell in a heap 
and is now dying — that 's all I know. They say 
that our young gentleman was a fine chap, very 
brave, and very kind to poor people. I don't know 
anything about it — it is all the same to me. 
Whether they are good or bad, young or old, quick 



212 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene iv 

or dead, it is all the same to me. It is all the same 
to me. 

As long as they pay, I '11 stay with them ; and when 
they stop paying, I '11 go to other people to do their 
housework, and finally I shall stop altogether — 
when I get old, and my eyesight gets poor, so that 
I can't tell salt from sugar. Then they '11 turn me 
out and say : " Go where you please. We '11 hire 
another one." What of it? I '11 go. It 's all the 
same to me. Here, there, or nowhere, it 's all the 
same to me. It 's all the same to me. 
[Enter Doctor, Man and his Wife. Both have aged 
greatly and are completely gray. Man's long bris- 
tling hair and beard give his face a leonine appear- 
ance. He walks slightly stooping, but holds his 
head erect and looks sternly and resolutely from 
beneath his gray eyebrows. When he looks at any- 
thing closely, he puts on large, silver-framed eye- 
glasses. 

DOCTOR 

Your son has fallen into a deep sleep. Don't wake 
him. It may bring on a turn for the better. You 
go to sleep too. When one has a chance to sleep 
one should grab it and not stay up talking. 

WIFE 

Thank you, doctor, it 's been such a relief. Will 
you call to-morrow again? 

DOCTOR 

Yes, to-morrow and the day after to-morrow. Old 
woman, you go to bed too. It 's late, it 's time for 
all to go to bed. Is that the door to leave by? I 
often make mistakes. 



scene iv] THE LIFE OF MAX 213 

[He goes out. The Old Woman, goes also. Man 
and his Wife are left alone. 

MAN 

Look, wife, I began to draw this while our son was 
still well. I stopped at this line and thought I 'd 
rest and resume the work later. See what a simple, 
placid line it is, yet horrible to look at. It may be 
the last line I shall have drawn in our boy's lifetime. 
What malicious ignorance there is graven in its 
simplicity and placidity. 

WIFE 

Don't get excited, my dear. Don't think those evil 
thoughts. I believe the doctor told the truth and 
our son will recover. 

MAN 

Are n't you excited too ? Look at yourself in the 
mirror. You 're as white as your hair, my old 
friend. 
wipe 

Of course, I am a little excited, but I 'm convinced 
there 's no danger. 

MAN 

Now, as always, you encourage me and fool me so 
sincerely, so guilelessly. My poor squire, true 
guardian of my dulled sword, your knight is a poor, 
broken-down man. He cannot hold a weapon in his 
feeble hand. What do I see? Our son's toys. Who 
put them there? 

WIFE 

My dear, you put them there yourself long ago. 
Have you forgotten? You said you found it easier 
to work with the child's innocent toys beside you. 



214 THE LIFE OF MAN' [scene iv 

MAN 

Yes, I had forgotten. But now it 's terrible to look 
at them, as terrible as it is for a convict to look at in- 
struments of torture. If the child dies, his toys 
will remain as a curse to the living. Wife, wife, 
the sight of them is terrible to me ! 

WIFE 

It was when we were still poor that we bought them. 
How touching it is to look at them, those poor, 
dear toys ! 

MAN 

I can't help it, I must take them in my hands. 
Here 's the horse with the tail torn off. Hop, hop, 
horsie ! Where are you galloping off to ? I 'm 
going far, far away, papa, to where the fields are 
and the green woods. Take me along, horsie. Hop, 
hop, hop ! Sit down, dear papa. And there 's the 
soldier's cap, the cheap cap I tried on myself in 
fun when I bought it. Who are you? I 'm a knight, 
papa. I 'm the bravest, the strongest knight. 
Where are you going, my little knight? I 'm going 
to kill the dragon, dear papa. I 'm going to free 
the captives, papa. Go, go, my little knight. (The 
Wife cries) And there 's our everlasting clown, with 
his kind, stupid face. But how ragged he is, as if he 
had come out of a hundred frays. Tinkle, friend, 
the way you used to tinkle. What, you can't? Only 
one bell left, you say? Well, I '11 throw you on 
the floor. (Throws down the toy) 

WIFE 

What are you doing? Remember how often our 
boy kissed his funny face. 



scene iv] THE LIFE OF MAN 215 

MAN 

Yes, that was wrong of me. Forgive me, friend, for- 
give me. {He bends down with difficulty and picks 
up the clown) Still laughing? Don't. I '11 put 
you away, out of sight. Don't be angry, I can't 
bear your smile now. Go and laugh in a place where 
I can't see you. 

WIFE 

It breaks my heart to hear you speak like that. 
Believe me, our son will get well. It would n't be 
just if the young were to die before the old, would it? 

MAN 

Just? Where have you ever seen justice, wife? 

WIFE 

Please, dear husband, I beg you, kneel down beside 
me, and let us both pray to God. 

MAN 

It 's hard for an old man to bend his old knees. 

WIFE 

Bend them. You should — - you must. 

MAN 

He will not hear me, He whose ear I 've never 
troubled with either praise or entreaty. You pray. 
You are the mother. 

WIFE 

You pray — you are the father. If a father is not 
to pray for his son, who is? To whom are you 
leaving him? Can one person tell the same things 
in the same way as the two of us together? 

MAN 

Very well. Maybe eternal justice will answer the 
prayers of an old man who bends his old knees. 
[Both go down on their knees, their faces turned to 



216 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene iv 

the corner where the Unknown stands motionless; their 
arms are folded over their breasts while they pray. 

THE MOTHER'S PRAYER 

God, I beg you, let my son live. I can understand 
only one thing, I can say only one thing, only one 
thing — God, let my son live. I have no other words, 
all is dark around me, everything is falling. I under- 
stand nothing, and there 's such a terror in my heart, 

Lord, that I can say only this one thing — God, 
let my son live ! Let him live ! Forgive me for pray- 
ing so poorly. But I cannot pray in any other way. 
You understand, O Lord, I can't. Look at me! 
Just look at me! Do you see? Do you see how 
my head shakes, do you see how my hands shake? 
But what are my hands, O Lord! Have pity on 
him. He is so young — he has a birthmark on his 
right hand. Let him live, even if only a little while, 
a little while. He is so young, such a mere foolish 
child — he 's still fond of sweets. I bought him 
grapes. Pity — have pity! 

[She weeps in a subdued way, covering her face with 
her hands. Man speaks without look'mg at her. 

THE FATHER'S PRAYER 

Here I am praying, you see. I 've bent my old 
knees. I 've prostrated myself in the dust before 
you. I 'm kissing the ground, do you see? Maybe 

1 have sometimes offended you. If so, forgive me, 
forgive me. It is true, I was haughty, arrogant. 
I demanded and did not beg. Often I condemned — 
forgive me. And if you wish, if this be your will, 
punish me, but spare my son. Spare him, I beg 
you. Not for mercy, not for pity do I pray you. 
I pray for justice. You are old, and I am old too. 



scene iv] THE LIFE OF MAN 217 

You will understand more easily than I. Bad peo- 
ple wanted to kill him, people who insult you by 
their deeds and defile your earth — bad, heartless 
people, who throw stones from behind corners. From 
behind corners, the scoundrels! Do not then, I 
pray you, permit the fulfilment of this evil deed. 
Stay the blood, give back the life — give back the 
life to my noble son! You took everything away 
from me, but did I ever ask you like a beggar : " Give 
me back my wealth, give me back my friends, give 
me back my talent "? No, never. I did not even 
ask you for my talent, and you know what his talent 
means to a man. It is more than life. I thought 
perhaps that 's the way it ought to be, and I bore 
everything, bore everything with pride. But now 
I ask you on my knees, in the dust, kissing the earth : 
" Give back my son's life." I kiss your earth ! 
[He rises. Someone called He listens indifferently 
to the father's and mother's prayers. 

WIFE 

I 'm afraid your prayer was not humble enough. 
There was a certain tone of pride in it. 

MAN 

No, no, my wife, I spoke well to Him, the way a man 
should speak. He cannot love cringing flatterers 
better than brave, proud men who speak the truth. 
No, wife, you cannot understand. Now I believe 
also and feel reassured — in fact, I am happy. I 
feel that I too still signify something to my boy, 
and it makes me glad. Go and see if he 's asleep. 
He needs a lot of good, hard sleep. 
[The Wife goes out. Man, with a friendly look to 
the corner where Someone in Gray stands, picks up 



218 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene iv 

the toy clown, plays with it, and gives its red nose 
a quick Jciss. At that instant his Wife enters and 
Man speaks shamefacedly. 

MAN 

I was begging his pardon. I insulted this fool. 
Well, how is our dear boy? 

WIFE 

He is so pale. 

MAN 

That 's nothing. It '11 pass away. He lost a lot 
of blood. 

WIFE 

It makes me so sad to look at his poor shorn head. 
He had such beautiful golden curls. 

MAN 

They had to be cut so that the wound could be 
washed. Never mind, wife, his hair will grow again 
and be still finer. Did you keep what was cut off? 
Be sure to keep it. His precious blood is on it. 

WIFE 

Yes, I put it away in the chest, the last one left of 
all our wealth. 

MAN 

Don't worry about wealth. Just wait until our 
son begins to work. He '11 restore all we 've lost. 
I feel well again, wife, and I firmly believe in our 
future. Do you remember our poor little rosy 
room? The good neighbors scattered oak leaves in 
it, and you made a wreath of them and put it on my 
head and said I was a genius. 

WIFE 

I say so still. Other people have ceased to appre- 
ciate you, but not I. 



scene iv] THE LIFE OF MAN 219 

MAN 

No, my dear little wife, you 're wrong. What 
genius creates outlives the old dirty bundle of rags 
known as the body, whereas I am still living, and my 
productions — 

WIFE 

No, they 're not dead and they never will die. Do 
you remember that corner house you built ten years 
ago? Every evening at sunset you go to look at it. 
Is there a more beautiful building in the whole city, 
is there any with more depth to it? 

MAN 

Yes, I purposely built it so that the last rays of 
the setting sun should fall upon it and set its win- 
dows aglow. When the whole city is in darkness, my 
house is still taking leave of the sun. It was well 
done, and perhaps it will survive me a little while at 
least. What do you think? 

WIFE 

Of course, my friend. 

MAN 

The only thing that hurts, wife, is that the people 
have forgotten me so soon. They might have re- 
membered me a little longer, just a little longer. 

WIFE 

They have forgotten what they knew, and ceased to 
love what they loved. 

MAN 

They might have remembered me a little longer, a 
little longer. 

WIFE 

I saw a young artist near that house. He studied 



220 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene iv 

it carefully and made a sketch of it in his sketch- 
book. 

MAN 

Ah, why didn't you tell me that before? It's 
highly significant, highly significant. It means that 
my ideas are accepted and handed down by others, 
and even if I am forgotten, my ideas will live. It 
is tremendously significant. 

WIFE 

Yes, my dear, you are not forgotten. Do you re- 
member the young man who bowed so reverently to 
you on the street? 

MAN 

Yes, that 's so, wife. He was a fine, very fine youth. 
He had such a nice young face. It 's good you 
reminded me of his bow. It has sent a ray of bright- 
ness into my heart. But I feel sleepy. I must be 
tired. I am old too, my dear little gray wife. Have 
you noticed it? 

WIFE 

You 're just as handsome as ever. 

MAN 

And my eyes are bright? 

WIFE 

Yes, your eyes are bright. 

MAN 

And my hair is black as pitch? 

WIFE 

It 's so white, so like snow that it 's even more 
beautiful. 

MAN 

And no wrinkles? 



scene iv] THE LIFE OF MAN 221 

WIFE 

Yes, there are little wrinkles on your face, but — 

MAN 

Of course, I know I 'm a beauty. To-morrow I '11 
buy myself a uniform and enter the light cavalry. 
Yes? (His Wife laughs) 

WIFE 

There, you 're joking too, as in olden times. But lie 
down here and sleep a little. I '11 go to look after 
our boy. Don't worry, I won't leave him. I '11 call 
you when he wakes. You don't care to kiss an old 
wrinkled hand, do you? 
man (kissing her hand) 

Go, you 're the most beautiful woman I 've ever 
known. 

WIFE 

And the wrinkles? 

MAN 

What wrinkles? I only see a dear, kind, good, 
sensible face. Nothing else. Don't take offence at 
my stern tone. Go to the boy, watch him, stay with 
him like a quiet shadow of gentleness and love. And 
if he is disturbed in his sleep, sing him a song as 
you used to do. And put the grapes nearer, so 
that he can reach them. 

[The Wife goes out, Man lies down on the sofa, his 
head toward the spot where Someone in Gray stands 
immobile, so that His hand almost touches Man's 
gray, dishevelled hair, Man falls asleep quickly, 

SOMEONE IN GRAY 

Man has fallen into a sound, sweet sleep, deceived by 
hope. His breath is soft as a child's, his heart beats 
calmly and evenly, bringing him relief. He knows 



222 THE LIFE OF MAX [scene iv 

not that in a few moments his son will die. In mys- 
terious dream-fancies a picture of impossible happi- 
ness arises before him. 

It seems to him that he and his son are drifting in 
a white boat along a beautiful, quiet stream. It 
- seems to him that it is a glorious day, and he sees 
the deep sky and the transparent crystal water. He 
hears the rustling of the reeds as they part before 
the boat. It seems to him that he is happy and glad. 
All his feelings betray him. 

Suddenly he is disturbed. The terrible truth has 
entered through the thick veil of sleep and stung his 
thoughts. 

" Why is your golden hair cut so short, my boy ? 
Why?" 

" I had a headache, papa, that ? s why." 
And deceived once more, he feels happy again, sees 
the deep sky, and hears the rustling of the parting 
reeds. 

He knows not that his son is already dying. He 
hears not how, in a last senseless hope, with a child's 
faith in the power of adults, his son is calling him 
without words, with his heart : " Papa, papa, I am 
dying ! Hold me ! " Man sleeps soundly and 
sweetly, and in the deceptive, mysterious fancies there 
arises before him the picture of impossible happiness. 
Awake, Man! Your son is dead. 
[Man lifts his head, frightened, and rises. 

MAN 

Ha ! What is it ? I thought I heard someone call me. 
[At that moment many women behind the scenes 
burst into a wail — the loud, long-drawn wail over 
the dead. The Wife enters, frightfully pale. 



scene iv] THE LIFE OF MAN 223 

MAN 

Dead? 

WIFE 

Yes, he is dead. 

MAN 

Did he call me? 

WIFE 

No, he never awoke. He did n't call anyone. He 
• is dead — my son, my dear, darling boy ! 

[She falls on her knees before Man and sobs, clasp- 
ing his knees. Man puts his hand on her hand and, 
turning to the corner where Someone in Gray stands 
indifferently, speaks in a sobbing, but terrible voice. 

MAN 

You insulted a woman, scoundrel! You killed a 
boy ! (His Wife sobs. Man softly strokes her hair 
with his trembling hand) Don't cry, my dear, don't 
cry. He will scoff at our tears, just as He scoffed 
at our prayers. And you — I don't know who 
you are — God, Devil, Fate, or Life — I curse you ! 
[Man speaks the following in a loud, powerful voice, 
one arm about his wife as if to protect her, the other 
arm fiercely extended toward the Unknown. 
man's curse 

I curse everything that you have given. I curse the 
day on which I was born. I curse the day on which 
I shall die. I curse the whole of my life, its joys 
and its sorrows. I curse myself. I curse my eyes, 
my ears, my tongue. I curse my heart and my head, 
and I fling everything back at your cruel face, a 
senseless Fate ! Be accursed, be forever accursed ! 
With my curses I conquer you. What else can you 
do to me? Hurl me to the ground, I will laugh and 



224 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene iv 

shout in your face : " Be accursed ! " Seal my mouth 
with the clamps of death, with my last thought I 
will shout into your stupid ears : " Be accursed, be 
accursed ! " Take my body, tear at it like a dog, 
drag it into the darkness — I am not in it. I have 
disappeared, but disappearing I shall repeat : " Be 
accursed, be accursed ! " Through the woman whom 
you have insulted, through the boy whom you have 
killed, I convey to you the curses of Man! 
\He turns in silence, with fiercely uplifted hand. 
Someone in Gray listens passively to the curses. 
The flame of the candle flickers as if blown by the 
wind. Thus they stand for some time in tense silence 
confronting each other, Man and Someone in Gray. 
The wailing behind the scenes grows louder and more 
prolonged, passing into a doleful chant. 

CUETAIN 



THE FIFTH SCENE 

THE DEATH OF MAN 

An uncertain, unsteady, blinking light, so dim that 
at first nothing is distinguishable. When the eye grows 
accustomed to it, the following scene becomes visible. 

A long, wide room with a very low ceilmg and 
windowless. The entrance is down a -flight of steps 
from somewhere above. The walls are bare and dirty 
and resemble the coarse, st aimed hide of some huge 
animal. Along the entire back wall up to the stairs 
runs a bar with a top of smooth glass. This is covered 
with bottles full of differently colored liquors that are 
arranged in regular rows. Behind a low table sits the 
Bartender, immobile, with his hands folded across his 
paunch. His white face is blotched with red. His 
head is bald, and he has a large, reddish beard. He 
wears an expression of utter calm and indifference, 
which he maintains throughout, never changing his 
seat or his attitude. 

Drunkards, both men and women, sit at small tables 
on wooden stools. Their number seems to be aug- 
mented by their shadows dancing on the walls and 
ceiling. 

It is one endless monotony of repulsive ugliness and 
desolation. The men's faces resemble masks with the 
various features disproportionately magnified or re- 
duced: big noses, or no noses at all; eyes staring 



226 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene v 

savagely, almost starting from their sockets, or eyes 
narrowed to scarcely visible slits and points; huge 
Adam's apples and tiny chins. Their Ivair is tangled, 
frowzy, dirty, covering half the face on some of them. 
Despite their differences, a horrible sameness is stamped 
upon their faces: a greenish, ghastly tinge of decay 
and an expression that appears grotesque in some, 
gloomy and stupidly timid in others. 

They are dressed m dull rags, with here a bony arm 
bared, there a sharp knee, and there again a frightfully 
sunken chest. Some are almost entirely naked. The 
women differ little from the men, except that they are 
even uglier and more uncouth. All have trembling 
heads and hands and walk with an uncertain step, as 
if on a slippery, or hilly, or sliding surface. Their 
voices, too, are all alike, rough and hoarse. They 
speak as uncertainly as they walk, as if their lips were 
frozen and refused to obey. 

In the centre, at a separate table, sits Man, his 
gray, unkempt head leaning on Jus arms. In this posi- 
tion he remains throughout the scene, except during 
the one moment when he speaks. He is dressed very 
poorly. 

In the corner stands Someone in Gray, with the 
candle burned nearly to the end. The slender blue 
flame flickers, now bending, now striving upward with 
its sharp little tongue. Its blue throws a ghastly 
glare on His face and chin. 

THE DRUNKARDS* CONVERSATION 

— Oh my ! Oh my ! 

— Look, everything is swaying so strangely. 
There 's nothing to rest your eyes on. 



scene v] THE LIFE OF MAN 227 

— Everything is shaking as in a fever — the people, 
the chair, the ceiling. 

— Everything is floating and rocking as on waves. 

— Do you hear a noise? I hear a kind of noise, as 
if an iron wheel were rumbling, or stones falling from 
a mountain, large stones coming down like rain. 

— It 's the ringing in your ears. 

— It 's the tingling of your blood. I feel my blood. 
It flows heavy through my veins, thick, thick, black, 
smelling of rum. And when it gets to my heart, it 
all falls down, and it 's terrible. 

— It seems to me I see flashes of lightning. 

— I see huge, red woodpiles and people burning on 
them. It 's disgusting to smell the roasting flesh. 

— Dark shadows circle around the piles. They are 
drunk, the shadows are. Hey, invite me ! I '11 dance 
with you. 

— Oh my ! Oh my ! 

— I am happy, too. Who will laugh with me? No- 
body. So I '11 laugh by myself. (He laughs) 

— A charming woman is kissing my lips. She smells 
of musk and her teeth are like a crocodile's. She 
wants to bite me. Get away, you dirty hussy! 

— I am not a dirty hussy. I am an old pregnant 
snake. I 've been watching a whole hour to see 
little snakes come out of my body below and crawl 
around. Say, don't step on my little snakes. 

— Where are you going? 

— Who 's walking there ? Sit down. You make the 
whole house shake when you walk. 

— I can't. I feel awful sitting down. 

— I too. When I am sitting I feel a horror running 
through my whole body. 



228 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene v 

— So do I. Let me go. 

[Three or four Drunkards reel aimlessly about, 
getting tangled up in the chairs. 

— Look what it 's doing. It 's been jumping for two 
hours, trying to get on my knee. It just misses by 
an inch. I drive it away and it comes back again. 

— Black cockroaches are creeping under my skull 
and buzzing. 

— My brain is falling apart. I feel the gray matter 
separating. My brain is like rotten cheese. It 
stinks. 

— There 's some sort of a corpse here. I smell it. 

— Oh my ! Oh my ! 

— I '11 sneak up to her to-night and cut her throat. 

— The blood will flow. It 's flowing already. See 
how red it is. 

— I am constantly being followed by three men. 
They are calling me into a dark corner of the vacant 
lot, and they want to kill me. They are already at 
the door. 

— Who is walking on the walls and ceiling? 

— Good Lord ! They have come to take me. 

— Who? 

— They. 

— My tongue is getting paralyzed. I '11 cry. 
(Cries) 

— My whole body is coming out. I '11 soon be turned 
inside out, and then I '11 be all red. 

— Listen, listen. Ho! Somebody! A monster is 
going for me. He 's raising his hand. Help ! Ho ! 

— What is it? Help! A spider! 

— Help! 

[For some time they shout " Help! " hoarsely. 



scene v] THE LIFE OF MAN 229 

— We are all drunkards. Let 's call down all the 
people from above. It 's so disgusting up there. 

— No, don't. When I leave here and go out on the 
street, it rampages and tears about like a wild beast 
and soon throws me off my feet. 

— We 've all come here. We drink rum and it gives 
us joy. 

— It gives us fright. I shiver the whole day from 
fright. 

— Fright is better than life. Who wants to return 
to life? 

— I don't. 

— I don't. I 'd rather croak here. I don't want to 
live. 

— No one ! 

— Oh my ! Oh my ! 

— Why does Man come here? He drinks little and 
just sits still. We don't want him. 

— Let him go to his own house. He has a house of 
his own. 

— Fifteen rooms. 

— Don't touch him. He has no place to go to any 
more. 

— He has fifteen rooms. 

— They 're empty. Only rats run around and fight 
in them. 

— And his wife. 

— He has n't any. Seems she died. 

[During this conversation and the following, Old 
Women in strange headgear enter quietly and re- 
place unnoticeably the Drunkards, who quietly de- 
part. The women mingle in the conversation, but 
in such a way that no one notices it. 



230 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene v 

CONVERSATION OF DRUNKARDS AND OLD WOMEN 

— He '11 soon die, too. He can scarcely drag himself 
along, he 's so weak. 

— He has fifteen rooms. 

— Listen to the beating of his heart. It 's uneven 
and faint. It '11 soon stop beating altogether. 

— Hey, Man, give us an invitation to your house. 
You have fifteen rooms. 

— It '11 soon stop beating altogether, that old, sick, 
feeble heart of Man! 

— He 's asleep, the drunken fool. It 's dreadful to 
sleep, and yet he sleeps. He might die in his sleep. 

— Hey, there, wake him up! 

— Do you remember how it used to beat when it was 
young and strong? 

\_A low laugh is heard. 

— Who 's laughing? There are some here who have 
no business to be here. 

— It just seems so to you. We are all alone, only 
we drunkards. 

— I '11 go out on the street and start a fight. I 've 
been robbed. 1 'm stark naked, and my skin is 
green. 

— Good evening. 

— The wheel is rumbling again. Oh, Lord, they '11 
crush me ! Help ! 

[No one responds. 

— Good evening. 

— Do you remember his birth? I believe you were 
there. 

— I must be dying. Good Lord! Good Lord! 
Who will carry me to the grave ? Who will bury me ? 
I '11 be lying like a dog on the street. People will 



scene v] THE LIFE OF MAN 231 

step over me, wagons will ride over me. They '11 
crush me. Oh, my God! Oh, my God! (Cries) 

— Permit me to congratulate you, my dear friend, 
on the birth of your child. 

— I am positive there is a mistake here. For a circle 
to fall out of a straight line is an absurdity. I '11 
demonstrate it on the spot. 

— You 're right. 

— Oh my ! Oh my ! 

— It 's only ignoramuses in mathematics who will 
permit it. I won't. I won't permit it, do you hear? 

— Do you remember the rosy dress and the little 
bare neck? 

— And the flowers ? The lilies-of-the-valley on which 
the dew never dried, and the violets, and the green 
grass ? 

— Don't touch, don't touch the flowers, girls. 
[They utter a low and suppressed laugh. 

— Oh my ! Oh my ! 

[The drunkards have all gone. Their places are 
taken by the Old Women. The light grows steady 
and very faint. The -figure of the Unknown is 
sharply outlined, and so is Man's gray head, on 
which a faint light falls from above. 

OLD WOMEN'S CONVERSATION 

— Good evening. 

— Good evening. What a splendid night ! 

— Here we are together again. How are you feeling? 

— I cough a little. 
[They laugh suppressedly. 

— It won't take long now. He '11 die soon. 

— Look at the candle. The flame is blue and thin 



232 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene v 

and spreading sideways. There 's no more wax. It 's 
only the wick that 's burning. 

— It does n't want to go out. 

— When did you ever see a flame that did want to 
go out? 

— Don't dispute, don't dispute. Whether it wants 
to go out, or does n't want to go out, time is flying. 

— Do you remember his motor car? He once almost 
ran me down. 

— And his fifteen rooms ? 

— I was there a little while ago. The rats almost 
ate me up, and I caught a cold in the draught. Some- 
one had stolen the window frames, and the wind was 
blowing through the whole house. 

— Did you try the bed in which his wife died ? Is n't 
it soft and nice? 

— Yes, I went through all the rooms and let my 
fancy play a little. They have such a pretty nursery. 
It 's a pity the window frames are knocked out there 
too, and the wind makes a racket with the litter on 
the floor. And the child's bed too is so dear. Now 
the rats have made their nest in it and breed their 
children there. 

— Such dear, naked little rats. 
[They titter. 

— And in his study the toys are lying on the table : 
a horse without a tail, a soldier's cap, and a red- 
nosed clown. I played a little with them. I put 
on the soldier's cap. It was very becoming to me. 
But there 's such a lot of dust on the things. I 
got all dirty. 

— But did you go into the drawing-room where the 
ball was given? It's so gay there. 



scene v] THE LIFE OF MAN 233 

— Yes, I did. Fancy what I saw. It was dark, the 
windows were broken, and the wind was playing with 
the wall-paper — 

— Making a sound as of music. 

— And in the darkness the guests were squatting on 
their knees at the wall — and you should have seen 
how they looked ! 

— We know. 

— And they barked : " How rich ! How magnificent ! 
How brilliant ! How rich ! " 

— You 're j oking, of course. 

— Of course I'm j oking. You know I have a funny 
disposition. 

— How rich! How magnificent! 

— How gay! 
[They titter. 

-w- Let 's remind him of it ! 

— How rich! How magnificent! 

— Do you remember how the music played at your 
ball? 

— He 's going to die soon. 

— The dancers circled about, circled about, and the 
music played so gently, so beautifully. They played 
this way. 

[They make a semicircle about Man and hum the 
tune played by the musicians at the ball. 

— Let 's get up a ball. It 's so long since I 've 
danced. 

— Imagine that this is a palace, a magnificent, an 
exquisitely beautiful palace. 

— Call the musicians. Why, you can't have a ball 
without music. 

— Musicians ! 



234 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene v 

— You remember? 

{They sing. At that instant tlve three musicians 
who played at the ball come down the stairs. The 
one with the violin adjusts his handkerchief on Ms 
shoulder with great precision, and all three beg'm 
to play, makmg an exaggerated effort. But the 
notes are soft and gentle as m a dream. 

— There you have the ball. 

— How rich ! How magnificent ! 

— How brilliant ! 

— You remember, don't you? 

[Smging softly to the music, they begin to circle 
about Man, imitating in a wild, monstrous fashion 
the movements of the girls in the white dresses who 
danced at the ball. At the first musical phrase they 
circle, at the second they join and part gracefully 
and quietly, whispering: 

— Do you remember? 

— You're going to die soon — do you remember? 

— Do you remember? 

— Do you remember? 

— You're going to die soon — do you remember? 

— Do you remember? 

[The dance grows brisker, the movements sharper. 
Strange, whining notes mingle into the singing of 
the Old Women. An equally strange laugh passes 
around the circle of dancers, suppressed and quiet at 
first. As each one glides past Man, she flings an 
abrupt whisper mto his ear: 

— Do you remember? 

— Do you remember ? 

— How gentle ! How exquisite ! 

— What balm to the soul! Do you remember? 



scene v] THE LIFE OF MAN 235 

— You 're going to die soon, you 're going to die 
soon. 

— You 're going to die soon — 

— Do you remember? 

[They circle more quickly, their movements growing 
still more abrupt. Suddenly there is silence and they 
halt. The musicians grow rigid with the instruments 
in their hands. The dancers remain fixed in the 
same position in which they were when the silence fell. 
Man rises, straightens himself, throws back his gray, 
beautiful, terribly majestic head, and calls out in a 
surprisingly loud voice, full of sorrow and wrath. 
After each short phrase a brief but profound pause 
follows. 

MAN 

Where is my squire? Where is my sword? Where 
is my shield? I am disarmed! Come to me quick! 
Quick ! Be accurs — 

[He sinks down on the chair and dies, his head fall- 
ing backward. At the same moment the candle 
flares up brightly and goes out. All objects are 
buried in a dense twilight which seems to be descend- 
ing the stairs until it gradually covers everything. 
The face of dead Man alone remains bright. Low, 
vague conversation, whisperings and derisive mock- 
ery are heard from the Old Women. 

SOMEONE IN GRAY 

Silence! Man has died! 

[Profound silence. Then the same cold, indifferent 

voice repeats from a remote depth, like an echo: 

Silence ! Man has died ! 

[Profound silence. The twilight thickens, but the 

mice-like figures of the Old Women are still seen 



236 THE LIFE OF MAN [scene v 

standing rigid. Presently they begm to circle about 
the dead body mutely, quietly; then they begin to 
sing softly, and the musicians begm to play. The 
gloom thickens, the music and the song grow louder 
and louder, and the wild dance grows more unre- 
strained, until -finally it ceases to be a dance, the Old 
Women merely whirling about the dead man arm in 
arm, stamping their feet, screeching, and laughing 
a wild, prolonged laugh. Complete darkness de- 
scends. Only the face of Man is still lighted up. 
Then this light too is extinguished. Black impene- 
trable darkness prevails. 

In the darkness are heard the movements of the 
mad dancers, their screeching and laughter, and the 
discordant, desperately loud sounds of the music. 
Just when they have reached their highest pitch, 
all the sounds and noises withdraw rapidly some- 
where and die away. Stillness, 

CURTAIN 



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